The Pon T'Keshtan
by Simplymare
Summary: Sequel to "The Ek'tevan Prerogative": Spock is suffering from nightmares and hallucinations after his chemically induced plak-tau. Kirk, McCoy and Uhura work to assist him through his trauma even as the "time of birth" approaches. For adult readers only.
1. Chapter 1

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
By Mary K. Hanson**  
Limited Copyright © 2010

**Disclaimers:** This story is based on characters in the 2009 alternate reality version of "Star Trek". Although the story itself is an original and belongs to me, and the characters of Sa'aat, Tasmeen, Semuk and a few other Vulcans, and the race known as the Coh'Lie are my own creations, this story in no way intends to infringe on the copyright of Paramount Picture or CBS or any other legal owner of copyright as regards "Star Trek", its world and/or its characters. This is a piece of fan fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. I am not making a profit of any kind from the very limited publication and distribution of this piece.

This story takes place about 7 months after my story "The Ek'tevan ([1]) Prerogative" and makes reference to incidences and people that were brought up in that initial story. To fully comprehend what you're reading in "The Pon T'Keshtan", it's best to read "The Ek'tevan Prerogative" first.

**Brief Teaser for "The Pon T'Keshtan (****[2]**)": About 7 months have passed since the incidents on New Vulcan described in "The Ek'tevan Prerogative". A new transitional government is in place after Semuk's murder, T'Pau has been ostracized, and Federation diplomats are working to forge agreements between the battling Sects on the planet, including the Fonn Vulkhansu (euphemistically referred to as the "Spockian Sect"). The females who were impregnated under the Ek'tevan Prerogative statute are all coming to term within the next several months ([3]). Although physically recovered from his ordeal on New Vulcan as a result of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, Spock is plagued with nightmares that leave him feeling disconnected from himself, frustrated and powerless. With the help of Uhura, McCoy, Christine Chapel, Kirk, and his former instructor Sa'aat, Spock learns what happened to him while he was under the influence of the plak tau inducement. He is forced to deal with the feelings generated by this knowledge -- while also dealing with the fact that the females he mated with during the plak-tau may be pregnant with his children, and that T'Pau may be pregnant as well.

Generally, all Vulcan words and translations are from the VLD (Vulcan Language Dictionary and the Vulcan to English Dictionary at /English-to-Vulcan-Dictionary/ and at /vld/. I did make up a few words and phrases of my own based on the aforementioned dictionaries and the tenants of Vulcan grammar.

Although based in Trek canon, I have taken a few liberties with the characters and their personal histories (as does all fan fiction).

**Rating:** This story has a firm M rating for mature themes, brief language, and sexual content.

**NOTE:** The **(numbers)** seen throughout the text refer to endnotes (footnotes at the end of the story/chapter) which help to explain terms and translations used in the story, and/or provide more annotated information to the reader.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

It had been almost seven months of this, and Nyota didn't know how much more Spock could endure. When the first nightmare had invaded his sleep, she didn't think much of it considering what he had been through on New Vulcan; forced against his will, under the edict of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, to participate in a chemically induced plak-tau ([4]) that resulted in his mating with five females he had never seen before. Where some Human males might have found such a situation erotically stimulating and enjoyable, something to brag about in the steam room for months afterward, Spock had viewed that intrusion on his person as a form of rape and had been physically and emotionally brutalized by the process. Although his body healed quickly, his mind seemed more resistant to recovery, and that fact irked him. He was and always had been profoundly proud of his mental acuity and emotional discipline, and tended to see his slow recuperation on that level as something of a personal failure. The nightmares only seemed to exacerbate that opinion.

Spock often dreamed, Nyota knew. She had been present with him on many occasions, lying beside him in his bed or hers, watching silently as his eyes fluttered and rolled beneath his closed eyelids and upswept eyebrows while he dreamed. And he had spoken to her on occasion of the lucid dreams he could summon in his sleep, and how he could manipulate them to prolong their pleasant and fascinating effects. In some of his dreams, he admitted to her once, he could run so fast that his whole body lifted up off the ground and he could fly. The sensation was exhilarating to him.

Nyota had found the mere idea of "Vulcan dreams" somehow romantically intriguing, and she thoroughly cherished those moments when she could see Spock like that... So disconnected from himself, so somehow ductile and vulnerable despite his masculine exterior; breathing through only slightly part lips; sometimes muttering in Vulcan; sometimes expressing emotions he would be loathe to express when he was awake. She would even tease him a little when he awoke from dreams that inflamed him, and then gleefully watch him try, often without success, to explain or excuse away the obvious manifestation of his arousal.

But not since he had been to New Vulcan those many months ago had she ever seen him have a nightmare, much less a recurring one.

That first nightmare had startled him -- and her -- quite fiercely, and it left her wondering if Spock had ever experienced a bad dream before in his lifetime. When he awoke from it, it was several seconds before he could extricate himself from its altered reality, and in those few seconds, his distinctly adult male features took on the cast of a pale and horrified child. His dark eyes were full of unspilled tears, and his mouth was gaping and trembling as he tried to catch and gain control of the breath that had forced several howling cries out of him just minutes before he awoke. Then he looked over and saw Nyota sitting up on the mattress next to him and he blinked at her, not comprehending who or what she was for a moment, before taking in another shuddering breath and grabbing control of himself. In that moment, she could almost see the powerful, structured Vulcan in him rise up and throttle the emotional Human side of him into subservient silence.

Nyota had put a hand out to comfort him, but Spock had promptly left the bed rather than allow her to touch him. And she remembered the sight of him in that moment: tall, lean, naked; hot skin speckled with the light cast by the trailing stars outside the large portal beside the bed. He looked like something from a dream himself then... Then he turned away from her, putting his back and the reflected starlight between her and whatever emotions he was fighting to suppress, and muttered a hoarse, "_Tobeg-tor du nash-veh_,"([5]) before snatching up a robe and leaving her there. Spock was cold to her all the next day... but then sincerely apologetic afterwards. His awkwardness during those apologies made her melt and forgive him -- even though she knew there was nothing to forgive. He'd had a bad dream. It didn't seemed that important to her...

But then the nightmares continued.

They would be gone for days at a time, and then suddenly reappear with so much detail and emotional savagery that they often left Spock shaken and gray, no matter how well or how hard he tried to conceal it. Spock, who was never one much for sleep anyway (he considered it too "unproductive" for his tastes) started to avoid sleep altogether. He would push himself to his physical and mental limits until, against his want and will, he finally had to relinquish control and let sleep overtake him... only to be cruelly rewarded with more nightmarish imagery. The disruption to his sleep pattern was starting to show in his features; his mouth was often tight, and grayish-green circles were starting to show around his eyes. This night was the first in weeks that he had agreed to go to bed at a decent hour, and had asked that Nyota be with him.

Spock was lying in the bed with her now, floating on his back on a sea of the kind of over-tufted comforters with which Nyota liked to surround herself, his face tense, his eyes staring at the ceiling as he fought to quiet his mind and make sense of the sleep-invading visions that had just awakened him. And although he tried to squelch it, his body was still shuddering with the physical memory of the dream. She did not ask him the obvious, "Another nightmare?" because she knew what the answer was already, and she knew she would get nothing out him but a look that suggested annoyance tempered with affection. He gave the same look to the few children aboard ship who accidentally banged into him as they ran through the corridors or spilled their lunches on his three-dimensional chessboard in the crew's lounge.

Rather than speaking, Nyota burrowed in against him, trying to impart to Spock through her skin her support for him; a support for which he had always been too proud to ask, but which she always so freely gave because she loved him. And she did love him, as impossible and remarkable as that seemed at times. She loved Spock, and she loved him enough to allow him to be entirely who and what he was: a Vulcan (with Human underpinnings that sometimes embarrassed him and frustrated him, but which he would not for anything in the universe surrender). As chafing as it could be, Nyota had come to know, Spock was silently grateful for his Human half. It was the part of him that most reflected his Terran mother, Amanda ([6]), a woman whom he greatly cherished and greatly missed.

When he was a child and the other Vulcans around him chided and chastised him for his humanity, it was Amanda -- as petite as she was, as bested as she often was by the superior, stronger Vulcans -- who always stood in unflagging support of him while at the same time never causing him to feel weak or insufficient within himself. She loved the impervious Vulcan in him as much as the frangible Human, and insisted on helping Spock achieve a balance between the two of them. Nyota hoped that she was able to do the same for Spock now in Amanda's stead, and could someday see in his eyes the same pride and gratefulness for her that was there whenever he spoke of his mother. Despite her lifelong insistence that she would never get involved with a man who was overly "attached" to his mom, she made an exception in Spock's case; it was different. He was not a mama's boy clinging to apron strings, or an adolescent posturing in a man's body. He was an adult male who had immense admiration, respect, and affection for the woman who had given birth to him. Nyota adored that in him; his unfaltering love for his mother. Spock had even fought to defend Amanda's honor and memory on occasion; once, right in front of Nyota herself. It added an affable and chivalrous quality to him that, to Nyota at least, seemed rare not only in Vulcans but in males in general.

This was not to say that she found nothing agreeable or justifiable in men, she did. Like everything, a competent and willing man had his qualities and purposes; and the healthy female that she was, Nyota was as up for a good tussle-and-poke on occasion as much as the next woman... Well, perhaps not as "up for it" as her former roommate, Gaila, usually was but then Gaila was a phenomenon in and of herself, as were most Orion women.

***** FLASHBACK *****

Nyota had never believed in love at first sight, and had always been one to scoff at even the suggestion of it. But she did recognize in herself her admitted propensity for "lust at first sight", and was surprised by how deeply and wholly Spock had affected her when she first stepped into the lecture hall that was his Communications classroom at the Academy. He was standing on the stage at the bottom of the stacked rows of seats in front of the lectern, dressed in a charcoal-colored instructor's uniform; a tall, stolid figure of dark sensuality and practiced composure, already a decorated Commander; one of Starfleet's most successful, published, and notable graduates. Everyone in school had heard of him; some were in awe of him, others intimidated by the mere idea of him. But if he was aware of how some of his students – both female and male – stiffened or swooned at the sight of him, Spock gave no hint of it. He stood instead with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, his head cocked slightly to one side as he spoke in low tones with Captain Christopher Pike, a man whom Nyota recognized from the dissertation he had once written on the fate of the starship _Kelvin_.

She found her eyes returning to Spock, however, no matter how many times the captain's voice caught her attention, and remembered that she had read somewhere that Vulcan males tilted their heads not only in an effort to capture sound more effectively but also to show off the shapeliness of their pointed ears. Male Vulcans' ears were generally larger than the females' and had longer tapering points at the tip. It had been suggested that some of the higher-ranking wealthier males even had their tips augmented to impress prospective mates. Somehow, she could not imagine that Commander Spock had needed any augmentation whatsoever.

Her eyes took in the set of his shoulders, the "acres" of long torso and the equally long legs, recalling from her physiology course that Vulcans as a species, because of the extreme gravity on their home world, had denser muscle tissue and were more heavily boned than Humans. As a result, their slim bodies were deceptively weighty and about three times as powerful as the average Human. Nyota wondered if Spock ever felt like he was buoyant in Earth's gravity, or if he held back his strength when making love. And when that particular thought occurred to her, Nyota realized that her mind had drifted into slippery territory. She tried to reorient herself in a more appropriate classroom mindset by paying more attention to the Commander's conversation than to his... err, ears.

She caught a few words, mostly spoken by Captain Pike: "_Enterprise_... flagship... my first officer..." And Spock returned with a comment about, "...An abundance of highly promising..."

As she continued to listen, Nyota felt for and blindly took a seat in the front row, and then accidentally dropped her PADD ([7]) on the floor.

Commander Spock looked over toward her with a curious yet serene expression on his face, eyebrows slightly cantilevered on his forehead, as he finished his sentence to Pike without a missing a beat. "... New recruits this quarter..."

Spock then marked the PADD on the floor, and looked Nyota in the eye for what seemed like an unusually long period (although she was certain, with afterthought, that it had only been for a few scants seconds). When he gazed at her, she imagined that she heard his voice inside her head saying, "Retrieve it, please," and she reached down for the PADD as though on command, and returned it quietly to her lap.

Pike chuckled at her, and then turned his attention back to Spock. Their conversation continued briefly.

"Ooo, he's yummy, isn't he?" her roommate Gaila said as she flounced into the seat next to Nyota. Gaila was all bubbling and gregarious personality bound up in a pair of more than ample breasts, curling red hair, and jade skin. There was a brain in her pretty head, but that was never the first thing she displayed to anyone. When she grinned, bright white teeth showed between red-painted lips.

"…The Vulcan, I mean, not Captain Pike," she said in a voice that was something more than a whisper. "Although the captain isn't anything to dismiss either, really... But, ooo, that Vulcan. That's the mystifying and magnificent Mister Spock, isn't it? I've heard about him. He's half Human but all male. Wouldn't you just love the chance to tease him out of hiding?" ([8])

To Nyota's shocked expression, Gaila giggled and said, "Ooo, you like him," and cooed, "You _neeeed _him. You _waaaant_ him."

"Oh my God, Gaila, shut up -- "

That demand only made Gaila laugh more, and she exclaimed, a little too loudly for Nyota's liking, "I had no idea you had a taste for exotics, Uhura! You should have told me sooner! I know this guy..."

"I'm sure you know lots of guys, Gaila," Nyota said, cutting her friend off before having to listen to, once again, the catalog of dazzling manhood with which Gaila was intimately acquainted. Her voice hissed through tight teeth. "But this isn't the time or the place."

"What are you talking about? Look around you, Uhura! There are males stacked up twenty-six rows deep above us!" Gaila turned around in her seat and looked up behind her at the rows of theater seats in the hall. She waved happily at the males of various species that she recognized from other classes, the ones she already knew wholly well, and the ones she was interested in getting to know. In other words, every heterosexual male creature in the hall.

Sitting beside Gaila, Nyota cringed in her seat and tried to hide her embarrassment behind a well-manicured hand. She occasionally glanced up through her fingers to see if Commander Spock or Captain Pike had overheard any of their conversation. If they had, they were too polite to bring it to anyone's attention.

As soon as they conversation finished, Captain Pike shook Spock's hand and excused himself from the classroom. Spock then stepped behind the lectern and addressed the entire class in a voice that was, oddly enough Nyota thought, both effortless and commanding at the same time. "This is Xeno-Communications Course 145, Period Two. I am Commander Spock, your instructor. If the course number, period number, and my name do not appear on your class registry, then you are here in error. I ask that you please double-check your schedules before I begin class, and leave promptly and quietly if you do not belong here."

There was a shuffling of PADD's and workbooks, some disappointed (and some relieved) exclamations by first-years who were in the wrong class, and a small flurry of movement as some students found their seats and others found their way to the door. As this was going on, Spock continued talking: "...There will be no excess chatter in my classroom. No eating, no drinking of beverages…"

Two students capped the water bottles they had brought into class with them and stowed them away in their Academy issued RBB's ([9]).

"…No chewing of gum or other comestible treats..."

Several cadets spit their gum into their hands, and then didn't quite know what to do with it. One stuck his on the back of his discarded PADD; another put hers back into her mouth and swallowed it whole.

"If you have a comment or a question, please do your fellow classmates and myself the courtesy of raising your hand and waiting for an acknowledgement before speaking. To further avoid distractions and noise, please shut off all PADDs and --"

Gaila's hand was raised.

Spock acknowledged her with, "Yes, Cadet."

"I use my PADD to take notes, Mr. Spock."

"While on Academy grounds, and when addressing me in my capacity as your instructor, Cadet, please refer to me as 'Commander' or 'Commander Spock'."

"Sorry, Commander. But I use my PADD to..." Gaila grinned. "I said that already, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. Nevertheless, in answer to what I assume was a question: I do not allow note-taking in my classroom."

A collective groan went up throughout the lecture hall.

Spock remained unflappable and said plainly to the entire classroom, "I expect each and every student in this hall to be, at all times, attentive to and involved with the lectures and hands-on projects presented to them. Note-taking distracts the mind from what is being said and what is happening around you. I would rather repeat the information to you several times, and give you an opportunity to practice with the material so that you learn it, rather have you simply take notes and then memorize them in your dorm rooms overnight. Committing facts to memory does not indicate or ensure that you understand the material, or that you can apply it in practical situations. You are here to learn and advance your skill sets, not to parrot everything I say to you."

Spock looked back to Gaila. "Do we understand one another, Cadet?"

"Yes, Commander Spock. No PADDs." Gaila said, and she tilted her head to one side so that her hair fell seductively in perfect curls over one breast.

The Commander ignored her display, and Nyota had to stifle a chuckle behind her hand. Internally, she was pleased by the fact that overt feminine sexuality didn't seem to faze the Vulcan. Men who tripped over themselves to get to a pretty face or a curvaceous body had never impressed her; they were too much like "animals". She craved intellect and respect as much as sexual brawn from her men, which is why it was sometimes difficult for her to get a date or keep a suitor. She had shot down so many males at the Academy that her pickings now were woefully slim. That fact both mollified her and sometimes saddened her. She felt justified and proud of herself for sticking to her standards, but at the same time was mournful over the fact that she often found herself alone in the dormitory after hours while Gaila and the others in their circle of friends were out carousing off-campus. They would come back to her with stories of fun and feasting, stolen kisses, and passionate swift sex in the back of taxicabs, and Nyota felt "left out".

But, when several semesters later, after she had indeed managed to tease the Commander out of hiding, it was all Nyota could do to stop herself from running from his bed back to Gaila, and squealing at her happily: "He is soooo beyond 'yummy', Gaila! And I don't know who taught him what he knows but... oh my God!"

***** BACK TO THE PRESENT *****

Next to Spock now, taking in the scent of him that was a mix of spice and what reminded her of frankincense, and feeling the heat disbursed by his body that negated her need for the comforters on the bed, Nyota smiled at the memories of their Academy days. She had pursued Spock, and had caught him with his consent. Everything had happened so fast, so perfectly, so... what Gaila would have called "serendipitously". So that now between them was a level of comfort that came to those who, after fighting the good and conscientious fight, were well and justifiably rewarded for their efforts. She belonged with Spock, and he belonged with her.

In part to comfort him and in part to reinforcing her "ownership" of him, Nyota let her fingertips trail down Spock's partially furred chest to his ribs, and then across his torso to where she knew his heart was. Like all Vulcans, his heartbeat fluttered like a hummingbird there ([10]). When he did not immediately respond to her, she kissed his shoulder lightly; then his sternum; then his throat just under his chin. When finally she looked up into his face, his eyes were meeting hers. She could see in them in the mental structure he had already erected to contain the fear and confusion brought on by this evening's nightmare.

Getting past walls like that was never easy for Nyota, and she knew it wasn't supposed to be easy. Vulcans needed their emotional restraint just as much as Humans needed their emotional release. The problem with Spock was he was neither wholly Vulcan nor wholly Human. Sometimes the Vulcan in him needed to be in control, and sometimes the Human needed to vent. The dilemma was figuring out which side of him it was that needed addressing at any given moment, and then speaking to that side without negatively impacting on the other. One of the tricks Nyota learned quickly was to let Spock decide by asking him open-ended questions like, "What do you need?" or "Is there anything I can do for you?", and then thoroughly respecting his answer to the question, no matter what it was. If the Human answered she would caress him and hold him. If the Vulcan answered, she would respect his space and leave him be until he asked for something more. She tried asking one of those questions now.

"Spock. How can I help you?" she asked him. Her body then rose and fell on top of him as he took in a long breath and let it flow out of him again in a sigh.

"I do not know." Spock said. There was a hollowness in his voice that made him sound almost defeated.

"May I make a suggestion?"

"Always, k'diwa ([11]) -- "

Nyota smiled at the word "k'diwa". It wasn't uttered in general Vulcan society anymore because of its intensely emotional overtones; and using it was so much like Spock -- to go against his society's grain in this simple but passively resistant way. For all his courtliness, sense of decorum, ethics, values, logic and self-discipline, Spock was -- by Vulcan standards anyway -- quite a rebel. In the face of Vulcan societal norms, Spock openly took on a Human as a potential mate, even though as a child he had been put through the Kah-ka and bonded to a Vulcan female ([12]). Without being formally married to Nyota, he pronounced himself her lover. He kissed her on the mouth in public (even in front of his superiors), a display of affection that would cause other Vulcans to hide their children's eyes or turn away is disgust. And he called her his beloved, his k'diwa, all because he believed that by doing so he was being forthright and honest with everyone, including himself. Nyota treasured that. In answer to his veracity and candor, she was faithful to him and endeavored always to speak and act in a way that would never give him reason to doubt her or to be ashamed of her. She took pride in his achievements; and he took pride in hers. When he had the opportunity to extol her intelligence and integrity to others, he did so; and she, in turn, did the same for him. They were an unusually good match. So, when Nyota asked to make a suggestion, Spock was more than willing to listen to it.

Nyota propped herself up on one elbow beside him and raked his dark bangs over his forehead with her fingertips. Then she said, "Maybe it's a long-term side-effect of the plak-tau drug you were given on New Vulcan. You know, that agent was manufactured pretty quickly in response to the Ek'tevan edict; and the Council didn't allow time for any sort of trials or long-term studies on it. Who knows what it could be doing to you? Call on Sa'aat or Sarek. They went through the induced plak-tau just as you did. See if they're having troubling dreams, too. "

Spock nodded. "I had considered that -- "

"You usually trust your inclinations. Why didn't you follow through?"

"I did not wish to burden them with my difficulties."

"Humans have a saying that goes something like: _a burden shared is a burden halved_."

Spock's eyebrows knit in consideration of that statement. "In such a case, the burden is only halved for the one who initially carried it. Those asked to take on a share of the burden are, in fact, ladened with a weight they did not previously carry... That is precisely what I am seeking to avoid."

"Okay," Nyota said. She gave him a slight smile. "I should know better than to try to ply you with quotations -- "

"Quite wise," Spock said. But despite his level tone, there was a playfulness in its aspect that made Nyota's smile deepen. He was trying to make light of his present discomfort; put his mind elsewhere so it would not dwell on disquieting dreams.

In response, she teased him with another quote: "_Wisdom is organized life_."

"Immanuel Kant. ([13])," said Spock. "And_, logic is the beginning of wisdom; not the end_." ([14])

Nyota thought on that one for a moment. "Who said that? Surak?"

"No. Spock Prime."

She batted Spock good-humoredly on the shoulder. "No fair, quoting yourself!"

"I was not quoting myself. I was quoting Spock Prime, who in truth was not me, but was his own entity in an alternate reality."

"Okay. Technically, I guess that's true... It still doesn't seem quite fair, though." Nyota said, "But I forgive you anyway." And she leaned forward over Spock's body and kissed his skin through the hair on his chest. It always seemed amazing to her that his skin could feel so hot to the touch while his core temperature was actually cooler than her Human norm. ([15])

After a second kiss to the other side of his chest and a third to one of his nipples, Spock returned the intimate contact by placing his fingertips to the nape of Nyota's neck and letting them slide down her spine and over the smooth curve of her bottom, as far as he could reach, then back up again. Down again, and up again in long, gentle, uninterrupted strokes. She knew if he wanted to, he could "read" her body through his fingertips and touch her mind; but he was not doing that now and never did that without her permission. Right now, he was just stroking her; making her skin flush and prick with goose bumps; making her pupils dilate; making her breath deepen to match the rhythm of his hands.

His gentle touch on her now had come with practice. The very first time they had made love in his off-campus apartment near the Academy had been his first ever time with a Human female, and he had become so caught up in their initial moments of clothes-shedding passion that he'd forgotten about his superior strength and went after her full bore. It wasn't until he realized Nyota was biting back tears that he promptly withdrew and then apologized liberally to her for bruising her so. She didn't tell him that his power excited her; it was the first and only lie of omission she'd ever consciously committed in their relationship. Instead, she pulled him back to her and told him with each touch, each embrace, each nip of his teeth, and each thrust just how much force from him her body could tolerate. He was an expert with her now.

In turn, she had learned from him. There was a spot at the base of his spine that was an erogenous zone for him; and he was ticklish along the curve of his pelvis. He liked his foreplay slow, and his orgasms vibrant and loud. When he was particularly aroused, he would start "chuffing" ([16]) at her just prior to his climax, and he liked to bite.

Now, in answer to the inviting strokes down her back, Nyota pulled her body up on top of Spock's, and then slid upright into a half-kneeling half-sitting position, straddling him, his long hips and torso between her legs. Spock's hands drifted over her hips and down the insides of her thighs, then back up toward her hips again in that same slow, rhythmic motion as before, and Nyota smiled at him. She dipped forward to kiss his chin and then his mouth; her petite breasts dangling against his skin, the contact making her nipples harden and protrude. His lips parted just slightly as she kissed him, and his hands slid up her body to get caught up in her hair and cup the back of her head.

Spock closed his eyes as the kiss continued, but Nyota kept her eyes open. She loved looking at him like this: when he was "out of hiding" and ready for her, all stone and velvet, his eyelashes lying like rims of black feathers against his cheekbones, his erection going tall against her backside.

Nyota moved her fingertips to his chin and tugged there slightly, silently to get him to open his mouth more for her. His eyes still closed, Spock tipped his head slightly to one side and obliged her. She dipped the tip of her tongue in past the edges of his teeth and could feel under her his whole body lengthen and go taught for her. With the hint of a smile, he nipped her softly on the bottom lip and then he opened his eyes to meet her gaze.

His reaction to the sight of her was not what Nyota expected.

Spock's eyes went wide with shock and horror. He roared into her face and, with one ferocious, sudden movement, he shoved Nyota off of him and propelled her across the room. She bounced against the floor with a wholly unfeminine grunt, completely startled, and then toppled over, banging her head slightly against the wall on the side of room opposite from the bed.

"Spock!" she said, more worried than angry or upset.

Kneeling on the mattress, Spock was shaking all over looking around the room as though he couldn't see her anymore. "Nyota? Nyota!"

"I'm here, Spock," she said. Nyota scrambled to her feet and hurried back to the bed. Spock wasn't focusing on her even though she was standing right in front of him.

"Nyota!" He called for her again.

She took hold of one of Spock's hands. He withdrew it from her as though her touched burned him, but she grabbed at the hand again and held it tighter. "I'm here, Spock. I'm right here."

Spock altered his focus to take her in, but he still didn't seem to recognize her. With his free hand, he reached out to feel her face. His fingers were trembling. "Is that you, k'diwa?"

"Yes, Spock. You're scaring me. What's wrong?"

Spock eyes shifted from one side to the other, almost as though he was trying to "read" what he saw in front of him but couldn't make sense of it. Frowning, he asked, "Am I awake?"

"What?"

"Am I awake?"

Nyota clenched his hand between hers. "Yes, Spock. I mean, I think so. What is it? What's wrong?!"

Spock took a pair of rapid breaths, and then answered, "I believe I am... hallucinating."

* * *

[1] "**Ek'tevan Prerogative":** Ek'tevan is the Vulcan word for "extinction". In my first story, the Ek'tevan Prerogative was an edict passed by the Transitional Council of New Vulcan as regarded the reproductive rights of the mature male portion of the population. To wit, all Vulcan males who were of age and healthy enough for reproduction were ordered by law to surrender both a semen and blood sample to the State in order to establish a new and comprehensive genetic materials bank. Second, the males were directed to submit to a chemically induced plak-tau in order to facilitate the impregnation of one or more Vulcan females to ensure the rapid reestablishment of the Vulcan race. Third, all Vulcans, male or female, were from the date of the issuance of the edict forward, permitted to marry and mate with only other Vulcans; this, in order to guarantee the integrity of the Vulcan gene pool. Spock stood against the edict, was arrested for violated the law, and forcibly subjected to the induced plak-tau. While under the influence of the chemicals, he inadvertently killed one of the females presented to him, and was later raped by two members of the Transitional Council in retaliation for his defiance of their order. At the end of that first story, Spock was not consciously aware of the death of the female or of the rapes because the drug had affected his short-term memory.

[2] **"Pon T'Keshtan"** translates from the Vulcan to "The Time of Birth"

[3] **Author's note: **Gestation / pregnancy for Vulcan females is 10 months.

[4] **Plak-tau:** the "blood fever", that last part of the Vulcan Pon Farr mating ritual in which renders the Vulcan male incapable of conscious thought, speech or decision-making, and can only be abated through mating.

[5] "**Tobeg-tor du nash-veh"** : Translated from the Vulcan it means, "Excuse me," or more literally, "Excuse you this person."

[6] **Spock's mother was Amanda Grayson**, a Human from Earth. She died when Nero of Romulus destroyed the planet Vulcan, slipping off a cliff side in front of Spock just seconds before Spock and the others he had rescued were beamed aboard the _Enterprise_. This is Trek canon / Alternate Reality

[7] **PADD**: Personal Access Display Device. For more information see the site at: /en/wiki/PADD

[8] **Author's note**: this is in reference to the fact that the Vulcan male's sex organ is most often pulled in toward the body. According to "The Introduction to Vulcan Physiology": _"... The Vulcan penis is an erectile structure without external sheath or foreskin, therefore Vulcans have no need for circumcision. As part of the evolutionary process of T'Khasi life, the male organ is almost fully retracted into the body when not in use as a protective measure. Vulcans also have two testes in a scrotal structure that is close to the body, not pendulous, and a prostatic body that produces and stores seminal fluid..."_

[9] **RBB:** Rollaway-Book-Bag [[**Author's note: **This is NOT part of Trek canon; I made this up.]]

[10] A "normal" pulse rate for a Vulcan is about 240 beats per minute.

[11] **K'diwa:** Vuclan word for "beloved"; shortened from the phrase "k'hat'n'dlawa" or "one who is half of my heart and soul".

[12] **Kah-ka**: The formal ceremony for the bonding and mind-linking of children as potential mates chosen by their parents. This ceremony usually takes place when the children are about 8 years old. According to Trek canon, Spock was bonded to a girl named T'Pring . In my story, The Ek'tevan Prerogative, I stated that T'Pring was the adopted daughter of T'Pau and had died as a result of the destruction of the planet Vulcan, but that is NOT in Trek canon. That was my own contrivance for the story's purposes.

[13] **Quote is attributed to **Immanuel Kant was an 18th century German philosopher. His _"Critique of Pure Reason"_ was an investigation of the concept of and limitations of reason itself. The full quote reads: "_Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life_."

[14] **Quote is attributed to **Captain Spock in the Star Trek film _"Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country"_ to Valeris.

[15] **"Normal" core temperature for human beings is 98.6°F**. According to the _"Star Fleet Medical Reference Manual"_, the normal core temperature for a Vulcan is 91°; yet their breath is "hot" and their skin temperature seems overly warm to the touch because their bodies are so good at dispelling heat through the mouth, nose and skin.

[16] **Chuffing:** a heavy-breath sound somewhere between a bark and cough; it signals a male Vulcan's pending sexual climax. [[**Author's Note:** This term and its definition are of my own making and are not part of Trek canon.]]


	2. Chapter 2

_With thanks to my fanfic collaborators "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text refer to end notes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

Because of the late hour, the huge circular Medical Bay was nearly deserted. Only a few nurses and orderlies loitered there, some going through old case files in an attempt to find "the weirdest thing ever," while others sat cross-legged on the scanning biobeds eating snacks or playing Jibbet (1). None of this impressed Spock as Nyota led him there by the hand from her quarters. He came to a standstill at the door, refusing to go any further.

"The hallucinations have ceased," he said. "I can wait until morning to address them."

"It is morning," Nyota responded, "and you may be able to wait for an answer, but I can't."

Spock bristled slightly at her tone, but did not resist further. There was no point in arguing when she was in such a state, and complying with her request would come at no great cost to him, so he allowed her to tug him into the Medical Bay by his wrist. Once inside, however, he quickly extricated his arm from her control as gently as he could. She didn't seem to notice however, because as soon as they were inside the bay, Nyota turned her attention on the staff.

"Hey!" she said brusquely, commanding attention but at the same time cognizant of the fact that she sometimes appeared too "_pushy_" and "_loud_" to some crewmembers. She didn't want to be seen as someone who barged into other people's space and then started figuratively pissing on everything as though she was marking her territory. "Does anyone here know where Dr. McCoy or Nurse Chapel can be found?"

The orderlies and nurses startled at the unexpected sound of her voice. Some jumped to attention, others stood or sat staring at them with their mouths agape. One snatched up the Jibbet cards and flung them into a nearby trash receptacle, while another quickly swallowed what was left of a cookie in her mouth. It seemed to take a moment to sink in that Lieutenant Uhura and Commander Spock stood in the Medical Bay.

The nurses and orderlies all knew them by sight, of course; everyone on the ship knew them; they were part of the command crew. But several of the medical staffers had never actually seen them in person before, and had certainly never expected to see them in their current state of... _disarray_.

Lieutenant Uhura, wore a brightly-colored, exceedingly short kimono and sandals, and her was hair loose, and somewhat askew, around her shoulders. Commander Spock stood slightly behind her to her left. He had fared better in the thrown-on-attire department, wearing dark blue pajama bottoms and a robe. The staff recognized the pointed ears and slanting eyebrows immediately, along with the signature rigid posture with which he normally presented himself aboard ship, but they were surprised to see that his feet were bare. That alone, quite oddly enough, made him look unexpectedly "Human" to them.

Nyota crossed her arms over her chest... and something prickled inside Spock; an odd, electric response he had never felt before but yet somehow seemed "familiar," like a d j vu. He retreated a step, feeling his heart rate accelerate, along with an overwhelming desire to turn-tail and flee the room. Spock blinked against the sensations and fought to command his heart to return to a normal rhythm. He was only partially successful, however, as he was also uncomfortable with the fact the female staffers were staring at him; at his chest, at his abdomen, and at what else he could only imagine.

Spock closed his robe to stop their goggling, frowning against a sensation that was something like nausea but did not exactly make him feel sick; an internal roiling, more like fear... He had felt something akin to it when he was a child, walking alone in the mountains just before he caught sight of a le-matya (2) on an adjacent cliff face. It was though an internal warning mechanism had gone off inside his body prior to the danger itself being seen. But he had nothing to be afraid of here on the _Enterprise_, so the feeling seemed odd and out of place to him.

Unaware that Spock had backed away from her, Nyota kept focused on the medical staff. "Hello?" she said, sounding far more irritated than she was actually feeling. She bit back some of her annoyance at the staffers' slow response, and tired to keep her voice level and calm despite her feelings of urgency. "Doctor McCoy or Nurse Chapel --? Anyone?" One of the nurses, an un-joined Trill named Lloran, finally found his voice and answered her. "Dr. McCoy is in his quarters, and he's not actually on the rotation roster until day after tomorrow, ma'am. But, um, I think Nurse Chapel might still be in the Hematology Lab..."

"Well... Go get her," Nyota said. "And don't call me 'ma'am'."

Lloran nodded once and rushed off with a hasty, "Yes, Lieutenant." The other orderlies and nurses then quickly turned away, and found more appropriate projects with which to occupy themselves. Without looking at Spock, Nyota muttered, "I was being kind of snarky, wasn't I?"

"Yes, you were," Spock replied. Then it occurred to him that her question may have simply been a rhetorical one. Stepping back up toward Nyota, he filled the vacuum in the conversation left by his apparent faux pas with, "This sort of lackadaisical approach to one's duties never occurred among my trainees at Star Fleet."

Nyota chuckled as she uncrossed her arms to give Spock a playful swat. "Oh, please. At the Academy, when you were out of the classroom, we sometimes had Triple Crown races (3) with the engineering cadets, riding the length of the lecture hall on roll-away chairs."

Spock's eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"I won both the Derby and the Preakness twice," Nyota said. "But I always got beat out by Marjorie Glynt in the Belmont. I hated her. I swear she greased her chair s wheels."

"Tell me you are joking," Spock said. If she were, he could dismiss it.

"Nope." Nyota drew a cross over her heart with her finger. "God's truth. She was a total cheat."

"No, I mean about the races. Tell me you were joking."

Nyota smiled at Spock but didn't answer him. She knew that his imagining that she had somehow orchestrated and run gambling exhibitions in his classroom at the Academy might keep his mind going for hours, and she figured anything that could keep his thoughts from his nightmares and tonight's hallucination would be a boon.

"Are you terrorizing my staff, again, Uhura?" Nurse Christine Chapel, dressed in her white uniform, asked with a grin as she entered the Medical Bay. "Only a little bit," Nyota said, as Christine gave her a warm, sisterly hug. Actually, Nurse Chapel gave just about anyone who would let her, a warm sisterly hug; it was just her way of interacting with people.

"What can I do for you kids?" she asked. "Something get stuck somewhere it shouldn't?"

Spock cringed on the inside but, externally, he only responded with a lifted eyebrow and a succinct, "No."

Christine touched Spock lightly on the forearm. "Just joking, Commander." She felt the heat of his skin through the robe's fabric and admitted to herself once again that if Nyota ever let the Vulcan go, she herself would be more than happy to step in as his paramour. To her, the Vulcans were the most damnedly handsome race in the Universe. And, she thought to herself, if that stupid Ek'tevan Prerogative hadn't banned Vulcans from marrying and mating with Humans, she would have willingly offered her services to help propagate their species.

"Must you put your hand on me?" Spock asked.

Both Christine and Nyota looked at him, their eyes wide with surprise. His tone had not be rude or demanding; in fact, his affect was quite flat -- which made his comment seem all the more incongruous.

"Sorry," Christine said awkwardly, pulling her hand away immediately. "Sometimes I'm just too huggy and grabby. It's the 'nurse' in me. Always wanting to kiss everyone's boo-boo's and make them all better, you know?"

Spock gave her a slight frown in response.

Christine smiled at his apparent puzzlement and tried a different tack. "I understand coming to the Medical Bay isn't one of your favorite pastimes, Mister Spock, so, I'm assuming something serious, or at the very least 'fascinating,' (4) has come up. What can I help you with?"

Spock glanced around at the other medical staffers, then returned his gaze to Nurse Chapel. "If it is possible, may we retreat to a more private area?"

"Oh, sure," Christine said. "Come with me."

Christine lead him and Nyota out through a pair of sliding doors and into a curving perimeter hallway that lead to the exam rooms, private suites, intensive care unit, and maternity ward. She picked an exam room at random -- they were all unoccupied -- and turned on the lights. Then remembering that as a Vulcan Spock's eyes were sensitive to bright lights, she dimmed them down a few notches. (5) Spock entered the room after her, and then put his hand out to stop Nyota from following him.

"No. I'm staying with you," Nyota said.

"There is such a thing as doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Christine isn't a doctor."

"But, she is still bound by the same rules of discretion."

"Spock -- "

"Besides, it would be helpful if you would record an entry into the medical database regarding my behavior before and during the incident which is not adulterated by my own recollection of the events. You may have noticed things I, in my altered state, did not, but which may be valuable to the medical team when formulating a diagnosis and treatment regime for me later," Spock said. And it was his tone, not his words, that asked her to please, simply comply with his wishes. He wanted his privacy and he wasn't up for an argument.

Nyota pursed her lips. "You know I hate it when you get all logical, and commanding, and stuff on me."

"Yes," said Spock.

Nyota let out a heavy sigh. Then she grasped the waistband of Spock's pajamas and pulled him close enough so that she could rise upon her tiptoes and kiss him on the mouth. She felt his neck stiffen at the contact, so she kept the kiss a brief one. She then rubbed the kiss delicately into his lips with the pad of her thumb as she said, "All right," which was her code to him for, _I'll do what you ask, but I don't like it_.

"Thank you, Nyota." Spock said, his mouth forming the words against her thumb before he tilted his head slightly and kissed the pad softly. It was his way of apologizing to her for his pique.

To that Nyota nodded, and tapped his lips twice with the thumb before finally removing it from his face. Then she said, "But I'm not leaving the Medical Bay. I'll be here when you're finished."

"As you wish -- " Spock replied, which Nyota also knew was his code for, _I'd rather you didn't, but I know I can't talk you out of I, so... there we have it.  
_  
Nyota resisted the temptation take his hand and give it a comforting squeeze of support before she left him to Nurse Chapel. Instead, she instead stepped back so the door of the exam room could shut, separating her from Spock. She noted that his eyes left her before the door closed. After contemplating the idea of loitering around the door to find out if she could hear any bits of his conversation with the nurse, Nyota admitted to herself that Spock would never approve of eavesdropping, so, she returned to the main bay.

Nyota pulled one of the stand-alone MRU's (6) over to a biobed, sat down, extended the MRU's adjustable keypad and started typing in her memories. She could have just as easily spoken into the unit and it would have recorded whatever she said, but she respected Spock's privacy enough not blab the story of his hallucination all over the Medical Bay. Besides, writing the report made her focus on it, made her ensure each word was the one she wanted in order keep the report as factual and accurate as possible.

As she typed, Nyota became aware of a male nurse inching out from behind one of the other beds to look at her. She could see him on the periphery of her vision and allowed him to leer for a few seconds before whipping around to face him angrily. The look in her eyes was enough to send him scurrying off like a jackrabbit.

"Now, that was terrorizing Christine's staff," Nyota said to herself with a chuckle. Then she admonished herself with, "God, sometimes I am such a bitch..." before she refocused her attention on her report.

LIEUTENANT NYOTA UHURA REPORTING: IN MY QUARTERS, ROOM 505, DECK 5, AT OR AROUND 01:20 HOURS THIS STARDATE, I OBSERVED COMMANDER SPOCK EXPERIENCE WHAT HE REFERRED TO AS A HALLUCINATION...

*********

In the exam room, Spock was reluctant to lie on the biobed. However, he did deign to sit on the edge of it, allowing Nurse Chapel to engage the bed's sensing units while she also checked him over with a hand-held medical tricorder.

"Can you tell me what precipitated the event?" She asked as she swiped the tricorder around his head.

Spock responded to the professional question with his normal simplicity and honesty. "I am not certain."

"What were you doing right before the hallucination began?"

"Is telling you that a necessity?" Spock asked.

Considering his mode of dress, Nurse Chapel assumed that he and the lieutenant had been engaging in some not-so-professional extracurricular activities, and she knew the Vulcans generally didn't like to speak to others about such things, so she tried to reassure him. "Any facts you can give me will help formulate a diagnosis. At this stage, I need you to give me as much information as you can because we don t know yet what could be significant and what isn't."

"Very well," said Spock. He looked past Nurse Chapel's head and focused on the wall behind her so he would not have to meet her eyes or be subjected to any judgment that might lie inside them. Then he sighed shallowly and answered her previous question. "I was lying on my back in bed. Lieutenant Uhura had moved to straddle my body between her legs. We were engaging in foreplay... "

He spoke with a frankness Nurse Chapel appreciated in her professional capacity, and found somewhat amusing as a woman. Only Spock could talk about copulating and make it sound as chaste as knitting, she thought.

He continued, "I had closed my eyes and could feel her kissing my mouth. I put my teeth against her bottom lip, and when I opened my eyes... Everything was different..."

"Different how?"

"It seemed that I was no longer in Lieutenant Uhura's quarters, nor was I in a bed."

"Where did you believe you were?"

"I was in a desert with small dunes all around me, and there were people buried in the sand. I could see glimpses of their bodies. Females. They were unmoving, and I feared they were dead. But something inside of them, under the skin, stirred. I wanted to investigate, but then a maelstrom appeared. A long funnel cloud of sand and debris; black; howling, almost as though it was screaming at me. I could feel a sentience in it; a targeted thought, all anger and violence. It meant to destroy me."

"What did you feel? Emotionally, I mean... Anything?"

"Overwhelming fear. Disgust. A sense of powerlessness... It came upon me and I could not move. I called out to Nyota -- to Lieutenant Uhura -- and I heard her answer me but I could not see her... Then something touched my hand, and it felt as though the skin were being abraded away. The pain was so intense; so real that I... I pulled my hand away, but something grabbed at it again and I heard Lieutenant Uhura say that she was there... I still could not see her, and I asked her if I were awake. She said, yes, and I told her I was having a hallucination..."

"You were able to speak to her in real time, even while you were hallucinating?"

"It seems so, yes. Is that unusual?"

"Hallucinations are always 'unusual', Mister Spock. But there are occasions when the mind can be, in effect, two places at once; sort of like having one foot in reality and one in fantasy. Usually, that sort of thing is associated with spontaneous abreaction, an intrusive recall --"

"A 'flashback'?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"But... How could I 'flashback' to a place and situation in which I had never been before?"

"Well, we don't really know that you did, yet. There is a possibility, however, that what you saw was a manifestation of your unconscious mind, not your conscious mind, and maybe you had been in that situation in a dream or other state of altered reality before. You did mention you had been having nightmares."

"Yes -- "

"Were they anything like the hallucination?"

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"The feelings generated by the dreams and the hallucination were very much the same, but the scenery and action were different. In the dreams, underground homes were being destroyed by monstrous machines. The mechanisms were so huge that they blocked the sun, and when they rolled over the landscape, they crushed everything beneath them. I am in one of the homes, and I can see the machine coming, but I cannot open the door to escape..."

"Were you ever crushed by the machine?"

"No. I always awakened just before it reached me..."

"And you haven't been sleeping well as a result of the nightmares."

"Correct."

"Sleep deprivation can cause all sorts of problems, even for Vulcans, Mister Spock. I know your people can go for days without it, but you still have limits." Spock cogitated on this for a moment, until Nurse Chapel pulled him away from his reverie with the question, "How long did the hallucination last?"

"Only a few moments longer," he said.

"Do you remember any other sensations or discomfort of any kind?"

"I remember, the maelstrom being upon me, and it was difficult to breathe. It was whirring over me, into me like a drill; and my skin was raw and bleeding. I was being pummeled by sand... Then the sand was in my clothes, tearing at my skin like thousands of miniature teeth, trying to get inside of me through any orifice... It was horrifying... Then it was if the whole scene shifted to one side of my brain. That was such a curious sensation that it seemed to bring me out of the vision. I could then see the Lieutenant and her quarters, but I could also see the funnel cloud. It lifted away, into the ceiling, and... and then I was back in bed... Lieutenant Uhura was holding my hand..."

"Were there any physical manifestations of the hallucination?"

"None of which I am aware."

"Could you remove your robe for a minute?"

Spock opened his robe and shrugged it from his shoulders. It fell down around his lap and hips on the biobed. Nurse Chapel looked him over without touching him, and then asked, "Are you experiencing any pain now?"

"Only slightly, along my pelvic region -- "

Nurse Chapel directed the scanner to his abdomen. "Here?" "Slightly lower and to the left."

"What kind of pain is it?"

"Like a dull ache; nothing substantial."

"But it wasn't there before the hallucination -- "

"No. Is that meaningful?"

"We don't know yet," Nurse Chapel answered honestly. "But I don t see anything anomalous in the readings."

She finished the scan and closed the top of the tricorder unit to contain the data. "Okay," she said. "You can cover up again."

Spock gratefully pulled the fabric up over and around his body.

"Well, physically, you seem to be fine for the moment, Mister Spock, so I won't be admitting you tonight. All of your traces are within the normal range for you," Nurse Chapel said. "You were right to report this aberration, however, and I'll be preparing a report for Dr. McCoy's inspection so he has it first thing in the morning. Even though he's not on the duty roster tomorrow, this is something he should be made aware of."

"Agreed," said Spock.

"I'm also going to pull the past few scans we did on you as a comparison to the ones done tonight, to see if there are any obvious discrepancies between them. We need to rule out a biological or chemical reason for the hallucination before we look into other types of causation. In the meantime, I'll get the on-duty physician to prescribe a sedative for you to help you sleep. If the visions were caused by sleep deprivation, getting some shuteye may be just what your body and mind needs."

"What if it is less than a medical condition, but more than sleep deprivation -- ?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I know you re anxious for answers, but... coming to a hasty conclusion now may do more damage than good in the long run. And besides, as a nurse I'm not qualified to make a diagnosis. That's for the doctors to do."

"You are more than qualified, Nurse Chapel. Your doctorate degree simply lags behind your abilities."

Although her inner feelings soared at his praise -- praise which she knew was never gratuitous when it came from Spock -- Christine simply smiled and said, "Well, thank you, Commander. You wait right here, and I'll get you that sedative."

"If possible -- "

"Yes?"

"I would prefer a somnetic inducer (7) to a chemical sleeping agent."

"-- Because the inducer doesn't require the on-call doctor to sign off on it, and medication does?"

Spock didn't answer her, but she knew she had guessed his reasoning accurately. He didn't want anyone else to have access to his medical chart that didn't absolutely need it. That sort of thing wasn't unusual for command-rank officers, so, she didn't argue with him or ask for more from him, and simply said, "All right. I can accommodate you with that." "Thank you, Nurse Chapel."

*********

A few minutes later Spock reentered the Medical Bay carrying the small somnetic inducer device and joined Uhura where she sat on the biobed. She was now playing Jibbet with a female nurse, and beamed at him when he approached them.

Spock scowled at the cards in her hand. "Oh, you caught me -- " she quipped.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Spock asked her.

"Way too much, I'm afraid. You probably find that shocking?"

"Not entirely. This one goes here," he said pulling a card from her hand and laying it on the bed next to the ones that matched it. "I believe that is a 'Jibbet', is it not?"

Nyota laughed out loud. "I thought you told me you never engaged in _'erotic distractions'_ like this."

"I do not," Spock said. "But I am aware of the rules of the game, and of the number of cards available to players in any given hand."

Nyota grinned at him and slid off the biobed. She looked back at the nurse and said, "Thanks for the game, Cherrie."

Cherrie, who was looking at Spock, seemingly captivated by him, nodded mutely in response. Nyota chuckled at that, too, then took Spock's free hand between her own. She glanced at the inducer but didn't make mention of it. Instead, she asked, "Are we set?"

Spock was frowning, distracted by Cherrie who continued to stare at him.

"Spock -- "

He turned his face to Nyota, but it was a second or two before his eyes met hers. "Pardon?"

"Are we done here? Have you been _'released to your own recognizance'_?"

"I am free to go, yes. Nurse Chapel will forward her report to Dr. McCoy in the morning."

"Good. Then let's get out of here -- "

"Yes," said Spock. "Let us."

*********

Back in Nyota's quarters, Spock lay on his side, on top of the blankets, with Nyota at his back. One of her arms was draped over his now naked midsection and she was already under the somnetic inducer's spell, sound asleep. He could feel her breath against his spine.

The little inducer was sitting on a nightstand beside the bed, humming at a pitch Humans could not hear, but which was somewhat distracting to his Vulcan ears. He could feel its effect pushing at his brain and knew that he required the sleep it could bring him, yet he resisted it.

In the months since leaving new Vulcan, he'd had the distressing impression that his self-discipline and mental acuity were being slowly gnawed away, little by little, as if by psionic termites. Spock now feared -- as illogical at it seemed to him -- that if he went to sleep, he might awaken to some new horror that would steal the last threadbare bits of self-control remaining to him. And if that happened, what would become of him? Where could he go? Who would want him then?

Those beleaguering thoughts that were the last thing he remembered before sleep finally overtook him.

* * *

(1) **Jibbet**: A card game originating on Risa that uses sexually explicit imagery. The game s point is to collect enough body parts and points to reach a "climax!" or "Jibbit!" [Author's note: This is NOT Trek canon; I made this game up.]  
(2) **Le**-**matya**: an animal indigenous to Vulcan that looks something like a huge cat with a green-and-white diamond fur pattern on its fur. The animal's claws are poisonous. Spock's sehlat I'Chiyi was killed by such an animal when he was a child.  
(3) **Triple Crown**: Three thoroughbred horse races including the Kentucky Derby (at Churchill Downs), the Preakness Stakes (at Pimlico) and the Belmont Stakes (at Belmont Park). The term "triple crown" was first used in 1930 after a horse named Gallant Fox won all three races in the same year.  
(4)Throughout Trek history and canon, "**fascinating**" is a word Spock uses when faced with something both interesting and unexpected.  
(5 ) According to the "**Introduction to Vulcan Physiology**", Vulcans, despite their inner eyelids, find the bright lights in Star Fleet vessels somewhat uncomfortable. The entry reads in part: _"...Vulcan vision is less acute in bright light, while their night vision is more acute. This is thought to be due to the fact that the Vulcans descended from nocturnal predatory "cat-apes". As in most very hot and arid climates, most life on Vulcan was and is nocturnal, sheltering from the blistering heat during the day and only coming out during cooler temperatures at night. Because of their eyes, Vulcan living accommodations or vessels are much more dimly lit than those of most other species. Most Vulcans find the lighting of standard Star Fleet vessels on the bright side... It has recently been discovered that many Vulcans serving on mixed Star Fleet vessels wear a type of tinted, polarizing contact lens to enable them to work without unnecessary and unhealthy eye strain... "_ For more information see .com/wiki/Introduction_To_Vulcan_Physiology  
(6 ) **MRU**: Medical Recording Unit, [Author's note: this isn't part of Trek canon]  
(7) **Somnetic inducer:** a medical device that when placed next the bed can help the patient sleep without the used of chemical sedatives or other mechanical inducements (such as the delta-wave inducer). A device similar to the one used in this story was once used by Geordi LaForge in the STTNG episode "The Mind's Eye."

Chapter 2 of "The Pon T'Keshtan" By Mary K. Hanson, Limited Copyright 2010


	3. Chapter 3

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_As in other chapters, you'll see numbers , like "(3)" throughout the text. These refer to end notes at the end of the chapter that explain phrases and give readers a bit more background information._

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: **

"I'm telling you, Jim, someone tampered with the data!" Dr. McCoy growled.

Sitting in the medical conference room with PADDs of every description piled up on worktables around him and several bio-med monitors alit in front of him, Captain Kirk was temporarily overwhelmed. He understood only a fraction the medical jargon presented on the equipment, and felt as though he was being asked to digest an entirely new language in just a matter of seconds. His brain locked, and he put his hands up in surrender.

"Bones, Bones... One thing at a time, please. Most of this stuff is like techno-nerd-Breen (1) to me. I don't understand what I'm looking at."

McCoy tapped on the monitor that was closest to the captain's face and indicated the points of disparity between the two scans displayed there. "These two scan were taken the day Spock was brought back from New Vulcan. Look. This one, is a scan I took of him when he was aboard the _Keswick_ and this other one, is a scan Nurse Chapel took on the _Enterprise_ later that same day. See? Whole sections of the data had been removed from the original scan."

"Yeah? And that's a bad thing because... Why, exactly?"

"Why?" McCoy looked flabbergasted. "Because that was the scan I used for the basis of Spock's diagnosis and treatment plan!"

"The one with the missing data -- "

"Yes! I didn't pay a lot of attention when Nurse Chapel's scan came across my desk, the day after Spock returned to the _Enterprise,_ because I thought the information on it was simply redundant. I mean, knew that Spock had been brutalized on New Vulcan, but I didn't know to what extent until just this morning. But, look here, at these readings on the second scan... here, in the BGA(2) portion..."

Kirk scowled at what to him was nearly incomprehensible gobbledygook. "Sorry, Bones, it's all -- "

"Techno-nerd-Breen, yeah, I know. Well, what it says in a nutshell, Captain, is that we were all lied to. The Vulcans told us that Spock had been bred to five females during his chemically induced plak-tau, and we took their word for it."

"Yeah, I remember that," the captain said. But he hated the word "bred"; it made it sound as though Spock had been used as breeding stock -- which, of course, he had been, but Jim didn't want to think of what his friend had been through in those terms. It made his skin crawl.

"And what was the lie, exactly?" he asked McCoy.

"The readings from the second scan indicate that there were _six_ females, not five -- _and one male_."

"Oh, come on, McCoy," Kirk snorted, sitting back in his chair, not immediately taking in the gravity of what the data was suggesting. "The data has to be wrong. How could he have been bred to a male?"

McCoy gave Kirk a pained expression in response.

It took a few more seconds before the dark connotations of the data sunk in, and then the captain's face blanched. "Are you implying that Spock might have been -- "

" -- Raped. Yes. It took a while for that to register on my brain, too."

"Jesus, Bones -- ! Bullshit. Are you sure?!" Kirk looked at the data again hoping that somehow his mind could make better sense of it.

"Well, that's a male's DNA signature; there's no doubting that. And whoever he was, his semen was on and in Spock's body when the medical scanner was activated by Christine on the _Enterprise_. Now, according to everything I've researched on the Vulcan Pon Farr rituals, during a plak-tau, the males in the blood fever, like Spock was, don't let other males come into their mating space. In fact, they'll try to kill any male that does comes near them because they see the intruding male as competition for the female. So, in order for male to have been able to do that -- " McCoy gestured at the data on the screen. " -- to Spock, Spock must have been somehow incapacitated. Either the other male overpowered him, or somebody helped the other male take him down."

"Shit," Kirk hissed.

"Yeah. Well, here's where it gets really ugly..."

The captain winced in anticipation.

McCoy leaned in and continued with, "Sa'aat told Uhura and me that the female Officiate of a plak-tau, in order to secure her own safety, has a kind of limited mind-link control over everyone involved. She can use her mind to essentially hide her bodyguards from the male in the blood fever so he doesn't know they're there and won't attack them. The Officiate at Spock's induced plak-tau was T'Pau... And between her and the five females Spock was bred to, you come up with a total of _six_..."

The captain looked like he was going to be ill. "Bones - ! T'Pau is like, what, four-hundred years old? And she's his kinswoman, for cripe's sake; she wouldn't do anything like that to Spock."

"She's actually more around a hundred-and-fifty (3), and... You didn't see her during the proceedings for the Ek'tevan Prerogative. She was adamant about forcing Spock to go through the process. And, of course, the general consensus now is that she's pretty much unhinged. You know that she lost her position on the Vulcan Transitional Council for declaring war on the Federation when we helped Spock and the Fonn Vuhlkansu leave the planet..."

"Yeah. No Vulcan in her right mind would have done anything like that," Kirk admitted. " She's lucky she disappeared before she was committed."

"Disappeared?"

"That's the last I heard, yeah. There's no record of her leaving the planet, but... nobody can seem to find her. Or Semuk, one of the other Ministers, for that matter... _A sixth female, and a male_... Kirk muttered.

"My mind went there, too.

The captain rose from his seat and walked blindly around the room with a hand to his forehead. It felt as though someone had just clubbed him with a baseball bat. He shook his head as if trying to jostle away the repulsive images that were forming in his mind. After a few seconds, he said, "Okay. Umm, one thing at a time. The male... Can you tell who it was?"

"Not specifically, no," McCoy answered. "The data from the scanner isn't that detailed. I can get genders, and species, and blood types and things like that from it, but no detailed DNA analysis that would let me identify specific individuals. The biobeds and medical tricorders do the more detailed stuff."

"Okay. The biobeds and tricorders, then; what do they tell us?"

"Spock wasn't admitted to the Medical Bay on the night he returned from New Vulcan, so there is no biobed scan to check," McCoy said. He looked ashamed.

"What?"

"I had over a hundred Vulcan refugees to process through a general quarantine when we got back to the _Enterprise_, and Spock... I... I signed off on his going directly to his quarters after he came aboard."

"Bones..."

"Both Nurse Chapel and Sarek believed that whatever injuries Spock had sustained during the plak-tau weren't life-threatening and could be healed by the po-zung, that meditative sleep thing he was under for a couple of days..."

"So no biobed scans," Kirk reiterated. "And the medical tricorder? You never leave home without one of those."

McCoy looked at the monitor, dejected.

"Aw, come on, Bones. Tell me you got something on a tricorder."

"Prior to the scans Nurse Chapel and I did, while Uhura and I were still on New Vulcan, Sa'aat took my medical tricorder saying that he wanted to use it to record the genetic codes of the females who had been mated with Spock, so he could track them later and find out if they got pregnant. When he brought the unit back to me, it had been purged, but he might still have the information from it in the databanks on his own ship."

"Well, good, then we can contact him, and -- "

"Jim... Sa'aat was the last one to touch my scanner's data tablet before I downloaded its information into the main system; the same tablet that ended up with missing information on it. He might have been the one who erased it."

"Great," Kirk said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I..."

Kirk put a hand up; he didn't want to hear any apologies at the moment. His mind was still grinding away at the facts and possibilities. "Wait, wait..." he said. "Both you and Christine saw Spock that night, didn't you? If he had been through what you believe he had, wouldn't there have been some physical evidence of it?"

"Rape doesn't put a brand on your forehead, Jim. There aren't always obvious physical indicators. Besides, when I examined him on the _Keswick_, he was sitting down and strapped into a flightseat, bundled up in a heavy robe. And according to Nurse Chapel's report, she never examined Spock closely either because, as soon as they got Spock to his quarters, Sarek took him directly to the shower and cleaned him up..."

"So, we got squat in the evidence department."

"Not 'squat', exactly. We just don't have anything definitive yet. What we have are two medical scanners that don't agree with each other; one which suggests something unspeakable happened, while the other is mute on the subject."

"So... How do we know the scanners were functioning properly when they were used?"

"I thought of that already. Had them checked out. Both were and are in pristine working condition."

"Then we're back to the sabotage of our medical equipment, with Sa'aat as a suspect..." Kirk shook his head. "I don't know; my gut just doesn't jibe with that idea. I wasn't around Sa'aat as much as you were, but I'd gotten the distinct impression that he really cared for Spock."

"Me, too, "McCoy admitted. "As annoying as that green-blooded son of a bitch was, I kind of liked him."

"So, what's left?" The captain asked. "The data on the scanner... You said it could tell you genders and species, right?"

"Yes. It confirms that sixth female and the male were both Vulcans."

Kirk walked over to one of the workstations and picked up a PADD. "But these things aren't infallible They do malfunction, right? Garbage in, garbage out. Isn't that the saying? "

"So, your hypothesis is that one medical scanner somehow deleted specific information from itself, while at the same time another scanner was so defective that it falsified the readings on the number, gender and species of people who had physical contact with Spock during his plak-tau... Is that it?"

"Okay. When you put it that way, it sounds pretty unlikely," the captain muttered. He dropped the PADD back down onto the work station, and mumbled, "Crap -- "

"Look, Jim, my brain went through this whole falderal, too. It couldn't have been a male because a male couldn't get near Spock; and the only way a male could get near Spock is if T'Pau let him; and if T'Pau let another male near Spock, then she was complicit in the assault. She saw what was happening and let it happen. And she was a _sixth female_ who had access to Spock, so she might have battered him, too..."

Kirk was shaking his head. When he spoke, he sounded exhausted. "There has to be another explanation. There has to be."

"I'd love to hear it, believe me." McCoy said dismally.

The captain stopped pacing and sat back down in his chair, numb with confusion. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, and gazed at the monitors for a while, then he said, "Do Vulcans ever perpetrate rape?"

"They're as capable of it as the next species, Captain, you know that," McCoy answered.

"I know they're capable of it, but do they do it? I mean, with all of their rigid social structures and belief in emotional repression, Vulcans as a species don't break the law. In fact, there are so few recorded instances of crime in modern Vulcan society that they don't even have a formalized legal system to address criminal activity. No courts, no jails, no police."(4)

"Jim -- "

"They don't swear; they don't lie. They hold truth and honesty as dear as they hold logic. I can't believe that a Vulcan would... would... Cripes, I don't even want to say the word."

McCoy finished for him, "Rape somebody. Yeah, well, we didn't think Vulcans capable of murdering one of their own, either, until Spock Prime showed up dead."

"Reports said an assassin did that."

"Yes, but it was the Ministers on the Transitional Council who wrote that report, not an independent investigator. The same Ministers who told us that Spock had been bred to five females instead of six, and failed to mention anything about a male."

"So, now you're saying that the information surrounding the death of Spock Prime may have also been manipulated? Aren't we getting a little paranoid here, Bones? Come on..."

"Do you think your denials are going to help Spock?"

"Well, I certainly can't accuse one of the former Ministers of New Vulcan of orchestrating the sexual battery of my First Officer without some kind of proof, now can I? So... what do we do?"

"We find the proof."

"Great. Where?"

"I'm a doctor, Jim, not a detective…"

"You know, that excuse is getting really old, Bones..." Kirk said, trying to inject a morsel of levity into a discussion that had actually made him quite sick to his stomach.

McCoy didn't smile. "We can start with Sarek and Sa'aat. See if they have the information that will corroborate our theory."

"Right. I'd have Uhura contact them -- she'd be great at finessing them into cooperating with her -- but I don't want her to know what we suspect yet."

"I agree."

"What does she think is wrong with Spock?"

"I don't know. I'm sure she knows something is wrong, but I don't know if her mind has gone to 'that place' just yet," McCoy answered. Then he added, "I can make the calls if you want."

"No, I'll do it. It'll give me a chance to use what little diplomatic skill I have."

"Okay." Standing beside the monitors, McCoy looked despondent. "I really messed up, didn't I, Jim?"

"Bones -- "

"I didn't follow protocols, I didn't do the follow-up I should have done. There's no excusing me. It's just... Spock really seemed fine when he came out of the po-zung. And I was just so used to his compartmentalizing, and his flat affect, and his self-demanding physical quirks that it never occurred to me that he was having problems. I mean, if I had seen that kind of behavior in a Human, yeah, red lights would have been going off all over inside my head immediately. But Spock's a Vulcan; he always acts like that."

"I'm not blaming you, Bones."

"No? Well you should be. Because according to the reports I got overnight from Lieutenant Uhura and Nurse Chapel, Spock has been having nightmares and avoiding sleep for months -- and I didn't know about it until this morning. I'm the Chief Medical Officer aboard this ship, and I was completely oblivious to the fact that one of the commanding officers was having mental problems. Then last night, Spock started hallucinating. I can't even begin to imagine what he's been going through."

"He's tough. He's a Vulcan..."

"In this sort of circumstance, I think that would make things more difficult for him, not easier. Imagine being a rape victim in a society that won't let you openly grieve or get angry; that doesn't have laws or a police force to protect you; whose general response to any kind of mental distress is to lock you up or ship you off to a monastery for mind-manipulation... Damn it, Jim, Spock has been suffering because I didn't do my job!"

"Stop beating yourself up. We don't even know yet if Spock's dreams or hallucination are connected to anything that happened to him on New Vulcan. It could be a delayed reaction to losing his home world and his mother. For all we know at this point, it could have been some bad plomik soup (5) or something. And if what we think happened to Spock did happen to him, well… You're not the only one who screwed up. Spock is my First Officer, my friend. I'm with him for most of every day, and I didn't know he was missing sleep or seeing things either."

"So, what do we do to fix this, Jim?"

"Well, until we're certain of more of our facts, we don't broach the subject of rape with Spock, or Uhura, or anyone else."

"Christine already knows."

"Can she keep it confidential?"

"Can she? She's so protective of the patient's charts that she was pissed off over the fact that I had approached you with the information. I had to explain to her three times that I had to tell you because you were Spock's superior officer and his problems could affect his ability to perform his duties."

"How'd she take that?"

"She teared up, and then kicked me in the shin."

"Small price to pay, Doctor."

"Really? You've obviously never been kicked by her."

Kirk forced out a slight smile. "I think you'll live."

As he then stood up to leave, the captain said, "I'll keep Spock off the bridge so he's not making any command decisions until after he's had a psych-eval. If you'll arrange for the evaluation, I'll rearrange his duty roster."

"Will do, Captain."

Kirk then reached out to clap McCoy on the shoulder. "Buck up, Bones. None of this was your fault."

"Yeah? Tell that to my digestive tract."

* * *

(1) **Breen**: a race of beings from an ice planet that are never seen without their refrigeration suits when they're off-world. Because of the suits, the Breen's voices are "extremely shrill and almost impossible to understand." _"Indiscretion"_ (DS9) _"Flesh and Blood"_ (VOY; hologram)

(2) **BGA:** "bio-genetic analysis"

(3) **T'Pau's Age: **According to , T'Pau was born in 2122, so in the alternate reality time line she would be around 147-150 years old, a little past "middle-age" for Vulcans (who live to be about 250). Spock, by comparison was born in 2232 (or 2230, the information conflicts on that) and would have been about 37-40 years old at the time this story takes place. **Author's Note: **The age thing is tricky. For my story, I was basing Spock's age on his published birthdate (2230-2232) and the time when he supposedly started working with James Kirk (around 2265-2267, according to TOS canon) which would put him around age 37-40 in my story-line; and the statements made by JJ Abrams in interviews in which he described Spock as _"much older than Kirk"_. Vulcans age much slower than Humans, so Spock may look 29 when he's actually 40. I also figured Spock would have to be over 30 if he was considered mature by Vulcan standards, since Vulcans are generally considered "children" until they're about 30 years old. It all gets kind of confusing and imprecise, though, because there doesn't seem to be much continuity in the dates (that I can find in my research). For the purposes of my story, however, I'm considering Spock to be 37-40 years old.

(4) **No Police Force**: This was based loosely in Trek canon and on information at the Memory-Beta site, which reads in part: _"...Their society had no property authority for investigating violent crimes since they rarely occurred. Vulcan belief held that those who had the ability to commit murder had a form of mental illness. Whilst they were capable of killing in cases of defense or racial survival; to actually murder for personal gain was not considered logical."_ One of the Star Trek games suggested that the **V'kor** were the Vulcan police force, but this was never part of accepted canon. For more information see the site at: .com/wiki/Vulcan

(5) **Plomik soup:** Plomik (or plomeek) is a kind of Vulcan vegetable which is usually rendered into a soup, broth or tea and consumed at the morning meal. For a recipe to make your own plomik soup, go to: .


	4. Chapter 4

_With thanks to my fanfic collaborators "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text refer to end notes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

Captain Kirk didn't know to say to Sarek, even on the secure channel, so he was somewhat relieved when Nevada Communications told him the Vulcan Ambassador was unavailable. "I would be happy to connect you to the Ambassador's private link, Captain Kirk," the young man, dressed in cadet-red, with a silver com-link bud in his ear, said in a crisp tone.

"That would be great. Thanks," Kirk replied.

"One moment, please."

ONE MOMENT flashed on the screen for a few beats, and then was replaced with: INTERSTELLAR COMMUNICATIONS, NEVADA BASE RENO, PRIVATE LINK. SAREK, AMBASSADOR, ID 45-8372.3. THE RECORDING WILL BEGIN WHEN YOU START SPEAKING.

Kirk sat for a moment, still uncertain what to say, so he started with, "Kirk, Captain James T., _USS_ _Enterprise_. Good day, Ambassador Sarek... I hope you and your fellow Vulcans are comfortable in Nevada, although I'm sure you're... anticipating a return to New Vulcan sometime in the near future. I'm... I'm calling you, sir, because something has come up regarding your son, Commander Spock, and I would like the opportunity to discuss it with you privately. I can make myself available to you at any hour. Please contact me at your earliest convenience. Thank you for your time. Kirk out."

There was a pause and the view screen pronounced, END TRANSMISSION.

Kirk switched off the view screen and sighed, "One down. One to go." Locating Spock's former teacher, Sa'aat, would be somewhat more difficult. Sa'aat had not gone to the Nevada settlement with the priests, mystics and other Fonn Vuhlkansu, instead he had gone off on his own in his vessel: the Haulat. The general had promised to stay in contact with Spock, but Kirk didn't know if he'd kept that promise or where he might be at the moment. Therefore, the captain had instructed Communications Specialist De'Vrille to keep broadcasting a hail to the _Haulat_, and told him to keep the channel open until Sa'aat responded. Thus far, Sa'aat had been silent.

*********

Spock stood before the closed door for several seconds, sternly admonishing himself for being indecisive before he activated the door's chime. As he waited for a response, he tugged down the hem of his Science-Blue (1) over-shirt to make it align more uniformly with the waistband of his trousers, and smoothed a wrinkle from the sleeve. The door opened, and Dr. Andrew Surrey (2), the ship's chief psychiatric doctor, stood there.

"Right on time, Mister Spock. Thank you," the doctor said without looking at him. He typed rapidly into a PADD. "Come on in. Make yourself comfortable." Still typing, the doctor stepped aside so Spock could enter his office. Spock walked in with his hands clasped behind his back.

Surrey closed the door, engaging the narrow communications panel on the outside that read "QUIET PLEASE. IN SESSION," in a variety of languages. He passed Spock, still tapping away at the PADD's keys, and said, "It'll just be a minute. I want to get my thoughts down before I forget them."

"Take your time, Doctor," Spock said.

The doctor noted that something in the voice wasn't exactly terse, but it wasn't exactly polite either. He had heard of Spock, of course. The Vulcan's almost legendary reputation in Star Fleet had preceded him; and the doctor admitted to more than a little exhilaration at the prospect of having Spock as a patient, even if just for a "routine psych eval". While Spock perused the room, Surrey looked covertly up from his PADD to watch him.

Standing in the center of the room, Spock noted that the doctor's office appeared to him in much the same manner as the doctor did himself: somewhat colorful, eclectic, and in an apparent state of disorder. Dr. Surrey, a middle-aged Human with dish-water-blue eyes and an almost apple-cheeked complexion, always appeared as though he was distracted and disheveled. Although he had recently put a comb through his hair, it was a mass of silvering curls that seemed to have a will of its own; and he hadn't had a chance to shave again that afternoon, so his chin was covered with a fog of gray stubble. He wore the standard-issue black trousers and boots along with a short-sleeved black pullover shirt, but on top of the pullover, he wore an unbuttoned, short-sleeved, white cotton garment with what looked to be tiny green monkeys all over it.

The main furniture in the office, a desk, two chairs and a small couch were all substantial pieces that appeared to be made of real wood, however, none of it matched. The wood of the desk desk was honey-colored, but the chairs were dark, like mahogany. One chair was tartan plaid and the other solid blue. The couch had a sandy-colored suede-like finish, accessorized with a scattering of primary-colored pillows. Crumpled throws were tossed over the backs of the chairs, and the carpet was matted in places. PADDs, open bound books, and an unfinished lunch of what looked like some kind bean soup and crackers littered the desk. A large rubber dragon lounged across the computer monitor.

An odd assortment of children's toys and miniatures (3) including starships, gates, houses, churches, bridges, pocket-sized people, planetary bodies, animals of all sorts, trees and hedges, a few wells, faux flames, rocks, jewels and even a tiny jail cluttered the shelving units lining the walls. Spock stepped up to a unit as Surrey continued to type, and looked at the tiny figurines there. They were mostly Human of both genders, all colors and ages, but there were also Klingons, Andorians, Gorns, Romulans, Orions, and Vulcans among others species. Even a Horta.(4) Most were piled in a haphazard fashion: males on top of females, Orions on Gorns. One Klingon was standing on his head. Spock extricated a handful of Vulcans from the mess and set them on their feet in a parade line across the front of the shelf.

On the next unit over, a female figure stood, imperious, her arms crossed over her chest, amid a bevy of demons, phantoms, skeletons, salt-sucking vampires, brain-cell-like parasites, Denebian slime devils, cannibalistic plants, and other nightmarish things. She was larger than the other figures; tall, thin and severe-looking, dressed in black and purple robes. Spock picked her up, careful not to disturb anything around her. The high collar around her neck was open in the front, and at her throat was a huge red jewel. A black cowl covered her head and on top of the cowl was a gold crown with five points. A large white pearl decorated the center point. What had attracted Spock to her, other than her incongruent placement on the shelf and her size, was the fact that she looked somewhat Vulcan. She had black, arched eyebrows, but because of the cowl, Spock couldn't tell if her ears were pointed.

"Is this creature representative of something?" Spock asked, holding the figure out so Dr. Surrey could see it.

"Well," Dr. Surrey said, finally setting his PADD aside to focus on Spock, "I could give you the whole psycho-babble business about her being representative of whatever it is you think she represents, but... She's actually Queen Grimhilde from the 1937 animated film adaptation of the fairy tale of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (5) on Earth. She's also called The Wicked Queen or The Evil Queen..."

Spock scowled slightly at Grimhilde. "Do many of the evil characters from Earth's animated films looked like Vulcans?"

"She looks like a Vulcan to you?"

"Vaguely. But you did not answer my question."

"The answer to your question is... _sort_ _of_."

"That is acutely inexact."

"I know. I'm Human. We're like that. Actually, in some instances, the evil characters in the films could look either monstrous or exceedingly beautiful. Sometimes, they could shape-shift between the two. It depended on the tale being presented."

Spock returned the queen to her shelf.

When the Vulcan didn't speak further, Dr. Surrey said, "So, Dr. McCoy tells me you've been having some sleeping issues -- "

"Then the doctor has a proclivity for understatement."

"Oookay. Do you want to tell me about that?"

"If I do not, may I leave?"

A smile played at the side of Dr. Surrey's mouth. He had been warned that Spock might be resistant to the therapy process. Usually, when Vulcans were having such difficulties, they sought other Vulcans for assistance -- and in the past sometimes participated in a rite known as the Fulara (6) to help them bury traumas and the debilitating emotions that went with them. Since Spock had relinquished his Vulcan citizenship, after being brutalized for standing in defiance of the Ek'tevan Prerogative on New Vulcan, however, his options for assistance from other Vulcans were probably greatly curtailed. And Dr. Surrey wasn't sure if there were any Vulcan priests or mystics who even knew how to perform a Fulara anymore. So, Spock was stuck with being evaluated and treated by a Human he didn't know. _For him, that must really suck_, the doctor thought.

Two of Dr. Surrey's colleagues, who had done psychological evaluations on the Vulcan in previous years, had also noted in Spock's chart -- alongside their praise of his mental acuity and decidedly ethical character -- that Spock was "exceedingly intelligent", "challenging", "unyielding", "perceptive", "adroit", "often evasive" and "somewhat egocentric". Surrey was rather delighted to find that, for the moment, Spock seemed to be living up to at least some of their estimations.

"I amuse you," Spock said in response to the doctor's half-smile, his tone and expression flat.

"No, Mister Spock. I was smiling because I love my job. Please," Dr. Surrey said indicating the chairs, "Have a seat."

"I would prefer to stand."

"Okay. Do you mind if I sit?"

"It is your office, Doctor. You may do as you wish."

"Well, thank you." Dr. Surrey took a seat on the tartan chair, and watched as Spock went to the opposite side of the room, placing himself precisely between the doctor and the door. Surrey speculated that if he measured the space, he would find Spock was equidistant from both the exit and the still vacant chair. Surrey thought, _he's trying to decide which way to go: out the door or into the process_. Getting the Vulcan to move either way was the first obstacle. Spock seemed to have planted himself both physically and mentally.

Spock presented himself to the doctor as Vulcans usually present themselves: clean, poised, expressionless and somewhat aloof. Humans often misinterpreted this aloof quality as "ego". As individuals, Vulcans were rarely self-centered and, as a species, they lived by the codices of their renowned philosopher Surak: _"Spunau bolayalar t'wehku bolayalar t'zamu il t'veh,(_7)" and _"Pulau na'vathular k'nuhk."(_8) Surrey admired this quality in them. He also admired their keen insight, often brutal honesty, and general courtliness which played out, for the most part, through a system of intricate body postures. Although Vulcans didn't hug, or smile, or pat others on the arm, their stance and hand placement often articulated their intentions or their feelings about those around them.

Surrey knew Spock's current stance, his hands clasped behind his back, was generally perceived, among Vulcans, as a sign of respect: a promise not to invade another's personal space or touch another's property. To Humans, however, this same posture could be seen as either an indication of relaxed confidence or submission; leaving the front of the body unprotected and open to attack. However, Spock had also turned in such a way as to present his side to Surrey, rather than his front, so he had to look at the doctor from over his shoulder. Vulcans often offered a side-view to strangers they perceived as weaker than themselves, so as not to appear intimidating. The stance was meant to reassure, but also implied the Vulcan felt he was superior. From a Human standpoint, however, setting one s shoulder between yourself and another was often perceived as off-putting or defensive. Surrey wondered which perceptions best suited Spock.

The Vulcan's breathing was controlled. His brown eyes -- unusually large for a Vulcan, and more reminiscent of his Human mother, Amanda -- were intent, but softened a bit by earnestness. His uniform was meticulously clean right down to the spit-polish on his boots. His hair was so sleek it gleamed with reflected light from the overhead fixtures. These observations spoke volumes to the doctor, too, but they were, frankly, the superficial stuff that often bored him.

Surrey knew Vulcans sometimes suffered from a buildup of squelched emotions or repressed memories, and could experience severe shariv t kae (9) as a result, but he'd never had the opportunity to treat, or even examine, a Vulcan in such a state before. The idea that he himself might be able to assist Spock through this process was what excited the doctor the most.

"So, Mister Spock", Surrey said. "Explain to me what you meant about Dr. McCoy's _proclivity for understatement_. You're having nightmares -- ?"

Spock's focus seemed to internalize for a second, before he looked directly at Surrey, cocking his head slightly as he spoke. "You have no doubt acquainted yourself with my file, and know why I have been ordered to attend an appointment with you, Dr. Surrey," he said.

Surrey sighed a little bit and leaned forward. He thought a moment before speaking candidly. "You know, this session may go a little bit more smoothly and productively if you'd not approach it as though it were a chess match, Mister Spock. I'm not trying to best you. I'm not trying to win at anything. I'm just here to help you."

"I was simply pointing out that I see no logic in wasting valuable session time rehashing what you already know," Spock replied, his tone somewhat conciliatory.

"Well, actually, I don't know anything about your case, Mister Spock, because you haven't told me anything yet," the doctor said. "I mean, I know the stuff the medical staff has already written about you, and I reviewed your past psychological evaluations --"

"_Intelligent, challenging, unyielding and egocentric_," Spock said. "Yes, I am acquainted with them also."

"What did you think of them?"

An eyebrow raised. "I suppose they accurately reflect the psychologist's viewpoint."

"Do they accurately reflect how you view yourself?"

"I perceive myself as both challenging and intelligent, yes. But the terms 'unyielding' and 'egocentric' are quite inaccurate -- in my view, Doctor."

"That's helpful. Thank you." Surrey sat back. "I, uh, I also read a report from a lieutenant... What was her name? U'Bulu or something like that?"

"Lieutenant Uhura." Spock corrected him. Surrey noted the slight sound of annoyance (at him) and great admiration (for the woman) in Spock's voice.

"Uhura, right. She said you had a hallucination during love-making."

Spock said nothing, averting his gaze to the floor.

_Vulcans don't like to talk about sex. _"So, tell me about it..."

Spock looked back up at him.

_There it is: a challenge in the eyes.  
_  
"About what?" Spock asked with a clipped tone.

"Anything you want. Sex, McCoy, your job, the captain, your girlfriend, your mother... It doesn t make any difference. Talk about anything."

Spock's eyebrows knit in the center of his forehead.

_That caught him off guard.  
_  
"I beg your pardon?" the Vulcan asked.

"Everything's intertwined, Mister Spock. Everything about you, everything that happens to you, everything you think, feel and fear: it's all interconnected. Explore one thing, and the rest starts unraveling around it. Once the unraveling starts, we can pick out the parts you need to deal with, and explore ways to manage them. So, just start wherever you want to, and we'll eventually get to where we're going."

"That would result in a rather circuitous route toward a diagnosis, would it not?"

"There are no straight routes in psychotherapy. It's like a big spiral staircase that doubles back on itself. Ever see Escher's symmetry drawings (10)? It's kind of like that; all convoluted yet somehow recognizable; different things jumping out at you depending on how you look at the whole. What seems like a bird may actually be a lizard. What seems like regression may actually be progress. Although it has a basis in cognitive behavioral theory and processes, therapy is at its heart very intuitive, and subjective, and idiosyncratic, and messy..."

"Much like your office."

"Yeah, exactly."

"I see. Now the clutter seems to serve a purpose."

Dr. Surrey smiled again. "Does everything have to have a purpose, Mister Spock?"

"Is that a rhetorical question, Doctor?"

"I'm just trying to engage your mind, and get you to start talking."

"What subject matter will result in an abbreviated stay in your office?"

Dr. Surrey chuckled. _Tough cookie_, he thought. _Good for him_. "Sorry, it's not that easy. You're scheduled for a ninety-minute session with me, and you'll be here for the ninety minutes even if you don't say another word. Keep in mind, though, Mister Spock, I won't sign off on your release for duty, until I'm satisfied what happened in Lieutenant Uhura's quarters doesn't happen again -- and I'm not talking about the sex, I'm talking about the hallucination."

Spock's dark eyes shifted back and forth, almost as though they were tracking the thoughts running through his mind. He looked behind him at the door for a moment.

Dr. Surrey pursed his lips. _Damn it, he's gonna bolt_, he thought.

But Spock didn't leave. Instead he muttered, "Very well," and stepped over to one of the shelving units.

_Still avoiding the chair_, Dr. Surrey noted. And Spock's back was toward him, now. In Human terms the stance usually indicated displeasure; a way of shunning or dismissing another person without telling them to "buzz off". For Vulcans it usually meant privacy was required. Spock needed a moment to himself, and Surrey was more than willing to allow him that.

His back still to the doctor, Spock asked for clarification. "I may speak of anything?"

"Anything at all. Without thinking for a second -- and I understand that's difficult since Vulcan minds are usually thinking about several different things at the same time -- tell me the first thing that pops into your head."

As directed, Spock quieted his thoughts for a moment, and then said, "This room is disquieting."

"Why is that?"

Spock turned away from the shelving unit to look at the doctor. "The disorganization is distracting. Its chaos is not conducive to contemplative thought." "You don't function well in chaos."

"Chaos is the bane of logic."

"Are you in chaos, Mister Spock?"

"I believe I was referring to the room, Doctor, not myself."

"I thought we weren't playing chess, Mister Spock."

Spock's eyes went completely hollow, and his bottom jaw dropped a fraction behind closed lips.

_I've insulted him._ Dr. Surrey changed his tone, and said more considerately, "Everything's connected... Remember? How you relate to the room may be a reflection of how you relate to yourself and your present state of mind..."

Spock said nothing, but his dark eyes were moving again. Dr. Surrey remained quiet for several seconds, not wanting to rush the First Officer; deliberately keeping a gap open in the conversation he hoped Spock would try to fill. He did not. Instead, he looked up from his thought process at Surrey, his composed features showing a bold front.

_He's not ready to release the insult yet._ Surrey leaned forward again resting his forearms against his thighs, his cupped palms facing up with just the tips of his fingers intertwined. The gesture was meant to be both affable and reassuring; offering help without implying Spock needed help. "Can you stipulate to the fact, Mister Spock, that you first have to acknowledge chaos exists before you can address how to correct it?"

"I believe I have already acknowledged the chaos in the room, Doctor."

"Okay... Then how do you suggest we address that chaos?"

"Clean the room," Spock stated frankly.

"How exactly? Describe the process to me."

Spock's eyes narrowed slightly. "You are now attempting to draw correlations between the tidying up your office and the tidying up your patient," he said flatly.

"Yes, I am," Surrey said. _The honesty startled him; but he respected it_. "Does that correlation irritate you?"

Spock's tone changed somewhat, becoming less confrontational and more conversational. "I am Vulcan. Irritation is a Human condition."

"You are half-Human, aren't you?"

"You know well that I am," Spock said.

"But you refer to yourself as a Vulcan."

"I am a Vulcan," said Spock. "I was born on Vulcan. I was raised on Vulcan. My father is a Vulcan. I have Vulcan blood, Vulcan organs, and Vulcan features. I am a Vulcan."

"So, if I'm to deal with you on a doctor-patient level, do I deal with you as a Vulcan, or as a Human?"

Spock was quiet for a few moments and then said, "Everything is connected, is it not?"

And to that, Dr. Surrey had to laugh out loud. "Yes, it is, Mister Spock. Who knew you would have a sense of humor -- ?"

Spock gave him a puzzled look.

*********

Captain Kirk was in the Captain's Mess on Deck 2 finishing up his log entries and dining on a chicken salad sandwich and hot coffee when he was interrupted by a com-link call from De'Vrille. "Bridge, to Captain Kirk."

The captain wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin as he stood. He walked across the room, swallowing a mouthful of coffee, and activated the view screen. De'Vrille, a Human whose crew-cut, pure white hair made him appear more frigid and crusty than he actually was, flickered onto the screen. De'Vrille was about ten year Kirk's senior. The fact that almost his entire crew was older than he was by at least a few years; some by decades, was something Kirk had found somewhat difficult to deal with when he first took command of the Enterprise. Everyone was professional and courteous, naturally respecting the chain of command, but on his worst days, when his inner critic was trouncing him, Kirk wondered if his crew still saw him as a brash cadet right out of the Academy.

"What do you have for me, Mister De'Vrille?" the captain asked.

"The captain of the _Haulat_ is returning your hail, sir," the crewman answered.

"Excellent! Patch it down here, will you, on a secure channel -- "

"Aye, Captain."

The view screen went blank for a moment, and then lit with the Sa'aat's image.

Sa'aat seemed to be in a diner or saloon of some sort. There were walls covered with electronic graffiti behind him, and a crowd of beings -- mostly Klingons by the looks of them -- talking and cavorting in the background. No longer a Kahr-Lan (11), Sa'aat wore none of the formal designations of his former rank. Instead, he was dressed in a pale yellow, high-collared shirt and a black leather overcoat with dark lapels that seemed to sop up the light from around his face, making him appear shadowy and dark. He was, otherwise, as Kirk remembered him: a tall, thin Vulcan with handsome features (even by Human standards) and piercing eyes. Although he wore his hair in bangs as did most Vulcans, Sa'aat's signature long, thick black hair that fell down to the end of his spine was no longer braided, since such a style was reserved for officers in the Vulcan Military, but hung instead in a sleek, straight ponytail. It was, however, decorated with the white-gold ribbon filaments that denoted his skill at k'a'sum'i (12). In a room full of Klingons, displaying such skill, even on an ornamental level, was quite daring. It begged someone to challenge it. No one bothered Sa'aat at the present, however, and he appeared composed and very still.

"How may I assist you, Captain Kirk?" he asked, somehow speaking over the noise behind him without raising his voice.

"Hello, Sa'aat. I'm glad we were able to contact you. I wasn't sure where you'd gone off to." Sa'aat remained quiet, waiting for the captain to answer his question. "Something has come up concerning Commander Spock," Kirk said.

Sa'aat leaned closer to the view screen at his end of the conversation. "Is there some difficulty?"

"Since returning from New Vulcan, Spock has been plagued with recurring nightmares. And just the other night, he was also hallucinating."

Sa'aat looked down for a moment, then looked back up at the view screen, his features impassive. "That is usually an indication of the reemergence of a repressed memory."

"Yes, that was our initial assessment as well. And in relation to that, we'd like to talk to you about the readings you took from our medical tricorder on the day Spock was subjected to the chemically induced plak-tau on New Vulcan."

"Indeed," Sa'aat said. He looked away again, this time for several seconds. When he looked back toward the view screen, he said, "That is something which should not be discussed over an interstellar com-link."

"I agree. I'd prefer to speak to you about it in person, if possible."

"What is your ship's present heading?"

"We're on our way to the Federation Starbase on Jagusch-McGillis. We'll be putting in there for about a week's worth of shore leave and general ship's maintenance."

"I am familiar with the planetoid's location. I can rendezvous with you there in --" Sa'aat paused to do the calculations. " -- twenty-three hours, forty-seven minutes."

"Great, I'll look forward to seeing you then. Oh, um, in the meanwhile -- "

"Yes, Captain?"

"Would you mind transmitting the tricorder data to my Chief Medical Officer, Dr. McCoy? You remember him."

"Quite."

"He'd like the opportunity to review the material before we meet."

If the request caused Sa'aat any trepidation, nothing showed in his face. "As you wish. I will instruct the _Haulat_ to initiate the transmission."

"Thank you. Kirk out." Kirk said, switching off the visual. "Well, that went easier than I thought it would," he muttered aloud.

In the saloon, poised in front of the portable view screen Sa'aat could still hear the captain's voice. He said plainly, "Captain Kirk -- "

The blank screen answered with Kirk's disembodied voice. "Uh, yes -- ?"

"The channel is still open."

"Crap -- " Kirk's voice muttered before the channel closed and END TRANSMISSION blinked on screen before it went dark. Sa'aat leaned back, bringing his glass of Vulcan brandy toward his chest with one hand at the same time. He knew the Klingon was coming up from behind before the brute said a word, and already had his other hand at the hilt of the lipitah (13) at his waist.

*********

"How do I know if my translation is accurate?" Spock asked Dr. Surrey.

Surrey and Spock both sat in the chairs in Surrey's office; the doctor in the tartan plaid chair and Spock in the blue chair. They faced one another, leaning forward as their discussion continued. It had taken Surrey over half the session just to get the Vulcan to sit down, and he didn't want anything to interrupt or interfere with that bit of progress. He kept talking to keep Spock engaged.

"Your gut will tell you -- " he answered, knowing, even as the words left his lips, that Spock would find fault with them.

"One's instinct and emotions are not very reliable resources when conducting empirical research," Spock said, frowning slightly.

"Sometimes, it's all we have to go on, Mister Spock..."

"As something of an expert, could you not guide me in my translation?"

"It's generally not possible for anyone else to tell you what your dreams mean, Mister Spock, because the imagery in the dreams comes directly from you, from your own unconscious and your own experiences, and is therefore unique to you," Dr. Surrey said. "For example, the image of a mountain in a dream may represent an irrefutable fact to one person, an obstacle to overcome to another person, and yet may also represent to you the seat of Vulcan mysticism or sacredness, as in Mount Seleya. If a more formulaic approach to dream interpretation will be easier for you, however, I would suggest you read _'Inner Work'_ by Johnson(14). It will help you generate a modus operandi for better recall and recording of your dreams, and come to a deeper understanding of what they may mean to you. If afterwards, you'd like to share your interpretations with me, you can, but you're not obligated to do so. Dream interpretation is a very personal endeavor."

"But sharing the interpretation may be construed as _'sharing the burden'_, may it not?"

"In one sense, yes, I suppose that's true. Do you not like sharing your burdens, Mister Spock?"

"I do not. But I have been informed that doing so may prove beneficial."

"Really. Who told you that?"

"Lieutenant Uhura."

"She sounds like a very smart lady."

"Indeed, she is."

"Is that what you like about her? Her intelligence?"

"That. And the fact she perceives me without presupposition or judgment."

"Not being judged is important to you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you vacate your invitation to the Vulcan Science Academy because you felt your biracial heritage was being judged by the Ministers as a 'disadvantage'?"

"Star Fleet offered me more opportunity for exploration and advancement," Spock said in correction, and to avoid a subject that made him uneasy.

"Fair enough." Doctor Surrey understood the conversation was slipping into the kind of personal realm that made the Vulcan uncomfortable, so he refocused it back on the processing of dreams. "...Don't be too quick to construe your nightmares as a burden, though, Mister Spock. They can often be a source of true enlightenment. And, we Humans believe dreams, even the bad ones, are a necessary for the maintenance of a healthy psyche and a deeper understanding of the Self. There's an old Earth saying that goes something like, _don't free the camel of the burden of his hump or you might free him from being a camel.(_15) It indicates that -- "

"-- That we require our burdens in order to be that which we are intended to be; or that we are the sum of our experiences, even the distasteful ones."

"Pretty much, yeah."

From the doctor's desk a bell-like chime rang softly: once, twice, three times.

"Our session has concluded -- " Spock inferred.

"Yes," Dr. Surrey said, making no effort to hide his disappointment.

Spock rose, tugging down his over-shirt to remove the wrinkles from it. Dr. Surrey was grateful the Vulcan didn't make a bee-line for the door. He was truly surprised, however, when Spock extended a hand for a handshake. Surrey took Spock's hand and shook it as he rose to his own feet. "It was a pleasure, Mister Spock."

"Thank you, Doctor. It was not entirely disagreeable for me."

Surrey chuckled.

"And I am again a source of amusement for you," Spock noted.

"No, not exactly. I'm just showing my appreciation for your honesty. It's very refreshing."

Spock gave the doctor a slight bow of the head in acknowledgement, then neatly extricated himself from between the chairs and went to the door. It opened silently, but Spock paused. "Do you have enough information in order to make a determination on my case, Doctor?"

"Well, I -- "

"-- For if you do not, I would not be averse to participating in a supplementary session."

"I think another session would prove valuable, Mister Spock. With your permission, I'll coordinate your next appointment with the captain."

"Thank you, Doctor," Spock said again. He left the office and walked away.

As soon as the door closed, Dr. Surrey's face gleamed with a bright grin.

*********

That evening, Captain Kirk entered his quarters too amped up to go to bed, so he called to galley for the dinner menu. He ordered a medium-rare steak, potatoes au gratin, and a vegetable medley, asking for it to be sent up as soon as it was ready. He called back a few seconds later, requesting a beer. Kirk had a small replicator device in his cabin, but he hated the thing. It never seemed to work properly, and even though Spock had assured him several times that what came from the replicator was the same as what came from the galley, Kirk swore he could always taste the difference.

He checked the com-link for the saved messages and reports. Most of them were things that didn't require immediate attention, so he bypassed them. He was surprised when he saw a request from Dr. Surrey for more sessions with Spock, however. "Computer -- " Kirk said. "Can you tell me if Dr. Surrey has retired yet?"

"Surrey, Doctor, Andrew P. is currently in his office," a female computerized voice answered.

Kirk hailed Surrey's office, and smiled when the doctor's image appeared on the com-link's view screen. Surrey was still wearing the monkey-decorated white cotton shirt. "That's not exactly standard issue, is it, Doc?" Kirk asked.

"Hey, it's Darwin's birthday. I had to wear something to commemorate it," Surrey answered with a grin.

"Darwin's birthday is in February..."

"Oh... Well..."

Kirk chuckled. "I see you've asked for more sessions with Spock. How did you manage to get him to agree to that?"

"Well, technically, he's only agreed to one more session. And it was actually his idea. But I thought I should clear his calendar for the additional ones just in case. _Hope springs eternal_,(16) and all that."

"How is Spock doing?"

"Now, come on, Captain. You know I can't discuss my patients with you without their written authorization."

"But you can tell me, as his captain, if he's able to return to his regular duties -- "

"In my professional opinion, I would strongly suggest he remain off-bridge for the foreseeable future. I'd also like to wait for Doctor McCoy's reports on Spock's physical status, so we can see how that might factor in, before making any final determinations."

"Okay... Can you... Doc, can you tell me what can I do to help him?" Kirk asked, sincerely concerned.

"I know he's your friend, Captain. And I know you re anxious for him to get through this and be well, but... Everyone processes their crap differently. Just... provide Spock with the time, and space, and privacy to go through whatever process he needs to go through. Don't rush him, and don't make him feel like he has to hurry up and get better just to please you. For any therapy to work, Spock has to be willing to accede to the process himself and for his own reasons. _Hwa is thet mei thet hors wettrien the him self nule drinken_."

"What -- ? What was that, Haliian(17) or something?"

"No. Old English, 1175. _Who can give water to the horse that will not drink of its own accord_."

"You mean, _you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink_."

"Exactly."

"Show off. You might have just said that in the first place."

"Then how will you ever learn anything new, Captain Kirk?" Surrey quipped.

"Good night, Doctor," the captain said with a smile and shut off the link.

Kirk then kicked off his boots and tugged his gold-colored over-shirt over his head, tossing it into the small laundry pile on the floor. Heading toward the bathroom, he removed his black pullover and dropped his pants as well, kicking them off beside the commode. He was about to step into the shower when he heard the com-link ping in the adjoining room. Believing it might be Surrey again, and not bothering to redress, he walked into the other room and activated the view screen. "Kirk, here."

The view screen on the com-link alighted with a female face. Communications Specialist Johannes was on the night-duty shift. A crackerjack linguist, she was second only to Uhura in her skills; proficient in dozens of languages and dialects; third in her class at the Academy. _And she's unattached and damn gorgeous_, Kirk thought. Unfortunately, Kirk's reputation for being a cavalier party-boy had preceded him to the _Enterprise_, and as a result, most of the female crewmembers that were attractive to him were more than a little reticent to allow him to... drop anchor, as it were. When Johannes saw the captain was undressed, she gave him a look a disapproving mother might give an unkempt child, and then politely lowered her eyes.

"I have Ambassador Sarek for you, Captain."

"Thank you, Johannes. Um... Could you put him on hold for a second while I go put something on?"

"I would be more than happy to, sir."

As the view screen flashed ONE MOMENT, Kirk rushed to the dresser in the bedroom, grabbed a shirt from one of the drawers and tugged it over his head. He realized, as he hurried back to the view screen, that the shirt was on inside out and backwards and the white label was sticking out in front under his chin. He pulled the shirt off, turned it right side out, and pulled it back on again, mussing his hair in the process. "Okay, Johannes. I'm set."

"Connecting you now, Captain."

The view screen flipped once between blackness and the placard reading INTERSTELLAR COMMUNICATIONS, NEVADA BASE RENO, PRIVATE LINK. SAREK, AMBASSADOR, ID 45-8372.3, before the image of Sarek appeared. As always, regardless of the hour, Spock's father was impeccably dressed and coiffed. He sat at the desk in his private study at the temporary Vulcan settlement in Reno, Nevada, his hands folded in front of him.

"Captain Kirk, I trust I am not intruding on your privacy," Sarek said in a baritone voice that oddly enough, was both soothing and intimidating.

"No, course not, Ambassador. Thank you for returning my call," Kirk answered. He reached out and grabbed the rolling steno chair nearby, pulled it toward him and sat down as he continued with: "I hope that things are going well for you and the Fonn Vuhlkansu, all things considered."

"Better than expected, Captain. Over the past several months, a new Transitional Council has been ensconced on New Vulcan. Unlike their recent predecessors, this Council seems dedicated to the reunification of the Sects on our planet. As a matter of fact, I and several other elders have been invited to return to there in four week's time in order to negotiate for an open seat on the Council ourselves."

"That sounds great! I'm glad to hear that some real progress is taking place there again. And, uh, what about Semuk and T'Pau? We'd heard that they'd both disappeared; is that right?"

"Yes, Minister Semuk's disappearance came on the heels of the Fonn Vuhlkansu's exodus from the planet. There have been rumblings suggesting he was assassinated, but no body has yet been located. Minister T'Pau was... shall we say, 'encouraged' to vacate her post on the former Council after her rather unfortunate decision to declare war on the Federation. She had retired to her villa on the edge of the city, but then disappeared approximately three months ago. Although we can find no indication that she ever left the planet, her whereabouts are as yet unknown... However, Captain Kirk, you did not initiate this conversation to learn about the aspiring government on New Vulcan. In your earlier transmission, you indicated to me that an issue had arisen which involved Spock. Please, elucidate."

"Well, it's kind of a sticky subject, Ambassador. I don't really know where to begin or how to say what I have to say to you."

"Speak frankly, Captain. That is usually the best option."

"All right." Kirk rubbed his lips with his fingers for a few seconds in thought and then said, "Spock has been suffering from recurring nightmares since his chemically induced plak-tau on New Vulcan. He also recently had a hallucination..."

"That is usually indicative of a mind-storm, what we Vulcans call a _shariv t'kae_."

"Yeah, we understand that they're usually seen in conjunction with the recovery of a repressed memory or as a symptom of post traumatic shock. Now... we were under the impression that the chemically induced plak-tau resulted in a sort of blocking of short-term memory, so that the male who went through the plak-tau wouldn't remember the details of what happened to him."

"That is so, Captain. I myself was subjected to the inducement, but remember very little of the experience, and have suffered no lingering ill-effects."

"Is it possible that because he's part Human, Spock may have retained more memory about it than the average Vulcan?"

"That is a faint possibility. But why pose the question? Did something happen during the Spock's plak-tau that was out of the ordinary or might have caused him additional distress?"

"You know that Spock was coupled with five females during his plak-tau."

"Yes. The number was extraordinary, but I had been informed that several of the younger females had just come into season, and the Council did not want to lose the opportunity of having them bred as quickly as possible."

"What would you say if I told you that we had evidence that suggested that Spock was actually subjected to six females and one male?"

Sarek's folded hands seemed to clench more tightly together on the desk, but his features remained expressionless. "I would wish to see this evidence, and to know how it came to be in your possession."

Kirk's faced pinched against the ugliness of what he was about to ask. "I suggest to you that your son was raped, Ambassador Sarek, and your first response to me is: prove it? What the hell is that?"

"Captain, Vulcans do not leap toward judgment. We collect and study facts, weigh the value of whatever evidence is presented to us without emotion or hysteria, and then arrive at a logical decision based on the validity of the fact pattern. If you are telling me that six females were mated to Spock, rather than the afore reckoned five, I wish to see the evidence that supports that. If you further contend that my son was subjected to a sexual assault by another male, I likewise require proof before I can determine the next course of action. Do you have the evidence required, or do you not?"

"We think we do."

"You 'think' you do? Your are unsure?"

"Our medical scanners seem to conflict on the issue -- mostly because we believe one or more of them were tampered with. We also believe that Kahr-Lan Sa'aat has more precise information on the subject which he downloaded from one of our medical tricorders before he returned it to us, purged clean of its data."

"You suspect Sa'aat - ?"

"Not of the assault, no, Ambassador; not at all. We just know that he has data that we don't. And we think that you yourself may also have some vital input on the subject."

"I do not understand."

"When Spock returned to the _Enterprise_, immediately after the induced plak-tau, you and Nurse Chapel took him to his quarters."

"-- So that he could release himself into the po-zung, yes."

"And before you put him to bed, you helped him shower."

"Yes."

"Ambassador," Kirk said frowning. "I'm asking you if you recall seeing any visual evidence on your son's body that may have inferred that he had been... violated by another male."

For a few seconds, Sarek's eyes lost their direct focus as he recalled the events of that evening so many months ago. When he finally started speaking again, his voice was very low. "When I brought my son into his quarters and set out to bathe him, his body was a digest of contusions, scratches, abrasions and bite marks which spoke of his ordeal. His skin was drawn, dehydrated, and viscid with saliva, and tears, and the leavings of mating. And there was blood and male fluid upon him, but I had assumed it was his own." Sarek looked up again and focused on Kirk through the view screen link. "If you have evidence to the contrary, I wish to see it."

"We'd be willing to share it with you, sir, but... We would like to pool our information and witness accounts here aboard the _Enterprise_, and then present them to Spock, all at one time."

"He is not yet aware of your suspicions?"

"No. We thought it best not to get him all worked up over something like this, until we felt more sure of our facts, and had established a support system for him should he need it "

"That seems wise, Captain Kirk."

"We've already invited Sa'aat to rendezvous with us at the Jagusch-McGillis space station. Would it be possible for you to meet us there, as well?"

"It will take me several days travel, but, yes, I would be willing to meet with you. I will have my steward make the arrangements, and will forward you my itinerary as soon as it is available. I will also be contacting Sa'aat, and will encourage him to cooperate with you fully on this matter."

"Thank you, Ambassador, and... I'm sorry. This conversation, I'm sure, was very... uncomfortable for you."

"-- And for you, Captain. Good evening."

"Good evening, Ambassador. Kirk out."

When the com-link went off, Kirk leaned forward in his chair and put his head in his hands. He rubbed his whole face with his palms and sighed deeply before he finally got onto his feet again and went to the bathroom to shower.

*********

Spock sat at the head of his bed with Nyota in his lap, curled against his body. She was sleeping the deep sleep that came on the heels of sex. It had all been for her tonight; Spock had felt little. His mind was so occupied with dreams, visions, dialogs and decisions that he could barely make a space in for anything else.

Humans often found intercourse a distraction from woes and uncertainty, but to Vulcans, the body required concentration. With their mental abilities, Vulcans could squelch pain, stave off hunger and thirst, probe the thoughts and emotions of others, and successfully transfer the living essence of a dying Vulcan into the "vessel" of another until a final resting place could be secured. Even in the po-zung (18), the mind was busy locating damaged cells; managing the focus, strength and direction it took to make multiple repairs simultaneously; wrapping ugly memories in a cocoon of thick silence; issuing streams of curative hormones to balance the inequities in the brain and organs; enhancing the immune system; sorting through information: which was immediately important, which was not... all the while allowing the body to rest restoratively. In that sense, the po-zung was more like deep meditation than sleep. There was no such recuperative sleep for Spock this evening, however, and the sex had been neither enjoyable nor reassuring for him.

He assumed Nyota had found some pleasure in it. He successfully brought her to a bright and gasping climax, during which she had pulled his hair, kissed him fervently, and told him that she loved him. But even that small accomplishment gave Spock little personal satisfaction. In fact, he felt somewhat ashamed; he had lost focus with her, had not given her the service of which he was fully capable, and had therefore failed her as a mate. Failure, no matter how small, never settled well with Spock...

Using a strength he seldom used with Nyota for fear of damaging her, he lifted her dozing form and set her aside on the bed. She stirred a little, making small sounds in the back of her throat before smiling in her sleep and settling down again. He pulled his robe on as he exited the bedroom.

He knew his quarters well enough, and could see well enough in the darkness to make his way around without stumbling or bumping into anything. He went into the main room, which, like the other rooms in his suite was tidy and somewhat Spartan. On the walls, there was an artistic representation of a Vulcan IDIC along with some hand-painted panels of Vulcan calligraphy. A worktable with a computer array and an ergonomic chair were the only furnishings. Spock sat and brought up the writings of Johnson that Doctor Surrey had suggested.

"..._The first step in Active Imagination is to invite the creatures of the unconscious to come up to the surface and make contact with us. We invite the inner persons to start the dialog...(_19)"

Spock read the book through to its end, taking mental notes of the ideas he thought would work well for him, and those that he could reject because they were geared more toward Human minds. He was already adept at lucid dreaming for example, and could therefore forego some steps and techniques Johnson suggested in that regard. But, all in all, the read was a quick and interesting one... albeit on a subject which, by its very nature, was all but bereft of logic.

Spock pulled up other works by Johnson from the ship's library. He had started on the second book when the com-link binged at him.

Spock tapped on the console to answer the call without visuals. Specialist Johannes was manning the Communications station this evening, and he had recently become uncomfortable with the way she looked at him. It seemed, more and more often lately, the female crewmembers looked at him differently than they had before; or perhaps he had not noticed it before. But it seemed, now, as though many of them eyed him like a specimen in a stockyard. They watched how he walked, how he carried himself, how he was groomed. Some leaned toward their friends and giggled at the sight of him; and one crewmember had remarked under her breath that he had a "powerful ass". She had no idea, apparently, that he could hear her; and no one else but her friend had heard the remark, still... It was entirely inappropriate.

"Commander Spock?" Johannes prompted.

He responded in a tone loud enough for Johannes to hear him, but not so loud as to awaken Nyota. "Spock here."

Johannes informed him that he had a private call from a transport cruiser called the _Ram-Kid_ (20). The vessel's name was unfamiliar, and Spock was not expecting any calls. Nevertheless, he was curious. And instructed Johannes to patch the call through to him.

When the view screen lit up in front of him, Spock was astonished at sight of the Vulcan male on the screen. He had shoulder-length hair, a full beard -- and grinned at Spock profusely. "Hello, Little Brother!"

"Sybok -- ?" Spock uttered.

* * *

(1) **Author's Note:** In Trek, blue-colored shirts are worn as part of the uniform for the "science" fields (general sciences, psychiatric, medical, etc.) ; red-colored shirts are worn by the "services" fields (security, communications, engineering, etc.); and gold-colored shirts are worn by the "flight crew" (captains, navigators, pilots, etc).

(2) **Dr. Andrew Surrey:** he's my own creation and was not a part of Trek. In the original drafts of this chapter he was Dr. Murray (named after my college Composition instructor), but I changed his name to Surrey for two reasons: I didn't want two doctors in the story whose last name started with "M" because I thought that might get confusing for readers; and the name "surrey" implies "carriage" and "transportation". As Dr. Surrey is going to be "carrying" a lot of Spock's emotional baggage for him, I thought the new name suited him better.

(3) **The doctor's "toys":** These are actually "sand tray - " or "play-therapy" miniatures used to assist therapeutic clients who find it difficult to articulate what they want or need, what they fear, or what they think. I believed these would be most beneficial to Dr. Surrey, as a psychiatrist on a starship, because he would often be dealing with patients of other species who didn't necessarily speak Federation Standard as a first language, and/or would assign their own individual and cultural significance to the toys. Rather than communicating with the doctor through static verbalization, they could use the miniatures to metaphorically describe their concerns, problems, goals, desires and thought processes. For example, whereas a Human might select a gun from among the miniatures and say it represents aggression or a threat of death; a Klingon might view the same object as something desirable -- an extension of his or her own military prowess; something to be achieved rather than feared. And Dr. Surrey could then base and/or adjust his diagnosis and treatment plan on that information.

(4 ) **Horta**: a sentient, silicon-based life form found on the planet Janus VI that looks vaguely like a blob of lumpy pizza

(5) **Snow White and the Seven Dwarves:** This refers to the 1937 animated film adaptation of the story done by Walt Disney, NOT the original stories written by the Brothers Grimm in 1812 entitled "Snow White" and "Snow White and Rose Red". Disney's Queen Grimhilde ranks #10 on the American Film Institute's list of "50 Best Villains of All Time".

(6) **Fulara**: The Fulara was an ancient Vulcan rite, administered by specially trained priests, to assist Vulcans with repressing traumatic memories and the emotions that go with them. The rite also erased from the recipient's mind the fact that the rite had ever taken place at all. Very often, the repressed memories eventually reemerged, sometimes forcing the Vulcan who initially went through the rite, to go through it again, or to face the trauma and emotions and deal with them openly. By the time this story takes place, the rite has become "obsolete".

(7)**Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh**: translated from the Vulcan it means, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one."

(8)**Pulau na'vathular k'nuhk.:** translated from the Vulcan it means, "Reach out to others courteously."

(9)**Shariv** **t'kae**: from the Vulcan, it means "mental storms" or more literally "storm of the mind"

(10) **Escher**: This refers to the artist M.C. Escher most noted for his drawings of intertwining staircases.

(11) **Kahr-Lan:** the Vulcan word for "general". Sa'aat had resigned his commission when he defied the original Transitional Council on New Vulcan and assisted in the escape of Spock and the Fonn Vuhlkansu from the Ministry Cathedral.

(12) **K'a'sum'i:** a Vulcan martial arts form which focuses on deadly force.

(13) **Lipitah:** A kind of Vulcan dagger.

(14) **Inner Work:** refers to the book _"Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth"_ by Robert A. Johnson. (1989) You can get your own copy through

(15) **"Do not free a camel of the burden of his hump; you may be freeing him from being a camel."** The quote is attributed to G.K. Chesterton, British writer and journalist, (1874-1936)

(16) **"Hope springs eternal"** is a quote attributed to Alexander Pope, 1732, in his _"An Essay on Man"_. It's now considered proverbial on Earth. It generally means that despite the odds, one can always hope for the best.

(17) **Haliian**: The language spoken by the people of the planet Halii.

(18)**Po-zung:** literally translated from the Vulcan means "after-exhaustion"; term used to describe the stuporous sleep after the completion of mating during a chemically induced plak-tau. The males only enter this state after being injected with a counteragent that extinguishes the effects of the artificial plak-tau. The po-zung can last anywhere from 10 to 32 hours, but usually lasts about 14 hours. This gives both the mind and the body time to recover from the chemically induced plak-tau effect. [[Author's note: This condition is my own creation and is not based in Trek canon.]]

(19) **A quote from "Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth"** by Robert A. Johnson. (1989) , page 166.

(20) **Ram-Kid:** Vulcan for "yellow feather"


	5. Chapter 5

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_With thanks to my fanfic collaborators "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text refer to end notes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

For its relatively young age and small size, the planetoid Jagusch-McGillis was a wonder in that it had a Class M (1) atmosphere and a burgeoning ecosystem of primitive plants and animal life. There were no native sentient life forms, however, so the Federation had annexed it as a star base almost a century ago without any political or humanitarian difficulties. Since its settlement, Jagusch-McGillis had grown to be one of the favorite stop-offs in the quadrant because of its proximity to a variety of other worlds and travel routes, and because it boasted one of the best interplanetary bazaars in that part of space. Most crewmembers of the _Enterprise_ were anxious to visit the base and partake some much deserved R & R (2). Most, but not all...

Spock, bored since his command duties were curtailed by his present "incapacity," had taken onto himself the tasks of coordinating a general maintenance itinerary for the _Enterprise_ with Chief Engineer Montgomery "Scotty" Scott and doling out shore leave to the officers and crew over the five-day period the ship would be orbiting Jagusch-McGillis. Although he seldom took shore leave himself, and found no "relaxation" in gallivanting around, Spock knew Nyota would need time off, and that she would expect him to accompany her, so he scheduled time for them to be together on day two, the same day he had designated for the senior officers to disembark. He spread the leave-time for the rest of the crew over days three, four, and five, but also allowed for periods on those other days for any crewmember to be planetside for short periods whenever their duties permitted. Adding that bit of flexibility into the schedule always seemed to mollify the Humans, who sometimes balked when rigid frames were constructed around what they perceived as their "play time".

Spock assigned himself several onboard shifts assisting the engineering staff since they would have very little time away from the ship due to the scheduled maintenance. That way the staff could get their shore leave, while he could be sure the repairs assigned were completed before departure.

"Are you suggesting that I cannae oversee my own staff, Mister Spock?" Scotty asked him as they walked the engineering deck together just prior to the _Enterprise_ arriving at Jagusch-McGillis.

"I have no doubt of your capabilities, Mister Scott. You are an exceptional engineering officer."

"Well, that's true enough, so... Thank you," Scotty muttered as he stopped to rub a spot from the surface of a warp coil interface panel. He kept his engine room tidy, which was quite a feat, considering how large the space was.

"However -- "

"Och, I hate your 'howevers', Mister Spock."

"Regardless..." Spock continued. "I also have no doubt that while on shore leave you will likely eat to the point of nausea and imbibe more than a little."

Scotty grinned. "Aye, that's a fact," he said with a chuckle and a nod. "Work hard and play hard; that's my motto. I've heard the Pantinkin Café serves a Cobalt-Derivian Cocktail that'll knock you on your ass."

Spock scowled slightly. He had never understood why Humans found pleasure in being _knocked onto their behinds_ by anything. "Yes, well, in light of such an eventuality, I am simply offering my assistance."

"In that case, Mister Spock, I'm glad to have you aboard," Scotty said slapped Spock hard on the back, twice. Spock stood still for a moment while Scotty walked on. He had also never understood why Humans insisted on hitting one another in such a fashion. It was meant to be an implicit expression of camaraderie, he knew, but he saw no logic in striking someone that one considered an ally.

*********

In Briefing Room 2, Nyota set out the visual aids for her presentation on "The Twelve Slithian Dialects" that afternoon. Although she knew all command crew designees were required to teach and mentor for a preset number of hours, she couldn't help feeling that she was being assigned "busy work". Since witnessing Spock's hallucination, she was acutely aware of being kept off the bridge and away from the Communications station. The captain had been cordial enough in reassigning her, suggesting that he was giving her time to get the teaching requirement out of the way while the _Enterprise_ enjoyed a few peaceful moments, but still... She felt she was being kept out of an important loop. On top of that, no one had spoken to her about her report on Spock's hallucination, or had given her a medical or psychological update on his condition. She knew Spock had also been stripped of command duties for the time being, but the informational vacuum gave her imagination fits. She conjured up scenarios in which Spock completely dissociated himself from her, or was institutionalized, or went rouge and killed himself rather than continue struggling against a mind he could not control. Between her fears and his nightmares and hallucinations, they made quite a pair.

Still, in her own defense, Nyota thought, the distancing was already starting. Spock allowed her to share his bed, but he had not shared his mind or feelings with her to any degree since the hallucination. The other evening, after he had brought her to a nerve-sparkling climax but had failed to achieve orgasm himself, Nyota had asked to share his thoughts. She had hoped to use the opportunity to reassure him, to let her mind speak of her commitment to, and her support of him. Instead, he had taken her hands, kissed her knuckles and drawn her against his body so she could share his warmth... but not his emotions.

While many believed Vulcans to be bereft of emotions because they did not display them, in truth they were, at their core, an exceedingly passionate species. Although he had never shown her everything, the times Spock had shared himself with her -- body and mind -- had overwhelmed her. His lust, like molten iron, burned through them both, searing them together; while his love for her was like a tidal surge that flooded up through his body, filling him, cooling, and supporting them both. She had wept when she first felt that from him.

"I am sorry," Spock had said, concerned his feelings had somehow injured her. She had shaken her head, fighting to compose herself and told him the tears were tears of joy, not sadness or hurt. She had explained that experiencing his emotions was like trying to take in the visage of an archangel -- a beauty so grand and inconceivable that it reduced mere mortals to tears. She wasn't sure if he had understood the analogy, but he had accepted it in deference to her.

But now... Now Spock wouldn't let her in and she felt certain he feared any profound mental contact between them might result in infecting her mind with the same frightening imagery to which he was being subjected, and he would not allow that to happen. In protecting her, however, he was shutting her out.

His closed-off behavior had been going on for about a day, but it made Nyota angry, nervous and fearful for him -- for them, for their relationship. Patience had never been her strong point when it came to issues surrounding people she cared about. She wanted answers, and wished someone would tell her what they were dealing with so they could do something. But things usually proceeded slowly when medical or psychological issues were being investigated. She understood the necessity for the process, but the time-lag was still infuriating. She resented the fact that this thing, whatever it was, had come between her and Spock, that she couldn't combat it because it hadn't yet revealed its face to her.

In her mind, she screamed, "Show yourself!" But nothing answered. Nothing was revealed.

When Nyota tried to engage Spock in discussions about his hallucination, he skillfully -- and maddeningly -- redirected the conversation. When she tried to ignore the fact the hallucination had taken place, putting her mind to mundane tasks, she felt guilty, as though she were somehow abandoning Spock or betraying his faith in her. She wanted to hold him, to caress him, to cry for him (or with him) if that was what he needed; but she didn't know what he needed because he was not yet able or not yet willing to verbalize it. So an insatiable frustration chewed at her insides putting her whole body on edge.

As Nyota stood at the podium, trying to put her lecture materials into a neat and manageable pile, a PADD slipped to the floor with a clatter. The sound seemed to cut through her brain like a snag of rusty wire. She picked the PADD up... and hurled it across the room with enough force to shatter it when it hit the wall.

*********

Despite their mechanized forms, the interaction between the _Haulat _and the_ Enterprise _seemed like a computerized tango when viewed from a distance in the silence of space. As the _Enterprise_ settled itself into orbit around Jagusch-McGillis, the _Haulat_ settled into the womb of the starship's shuttle bay. Once there, being significantly larger than the Federation shuttlecraft lining the walls, the _Haulat_ took up the lion's share of the floor space.

Neither Human nor Vulcan in design, the _Haulat_ was comprised of two distinct saucer-shaped disks, stacked on top of one another. A dense, greenish-black, metallic-looking "skin" blanketed the _Haulat's_ outer surface, and there did not appear to be any portholes, windows, doors, weapons banks or protrusions on its exterior. However, as the ship hovered a fraction of an inch above the floor, the skin pulled taut in one area, and an orifice, like a large mouth with dark lips opened on the lower saucer, and with it, a shallow airlock and door exposed a circular-shaped interior somewhat like any other Federation or Vulcan spacecraft. The electronic devices, scanners, dials, monitors, view screens and crystal panels were pristine and colorfully lit. The ship's walls appeared to be thick glass through which the underside of the dark exo-skin could be seen. The floors were buffed to a high polish. The lower deck held flight-seats, a small engineering section, a transporter platform and a supply area. The command stations were on the upper deck. Between the two decks, a cylindrical shaft housed the ship's turbolift.

Sa'aat rode the turbolift down from the upper deck, exiting the ship through the opening in the _Haulat's_ skin. As soon as he was out, the orifice closed and the _Haulat _returned to its former unblemished condition. Sa'aat was inspecting his craft when Spock and Scotty arrived.

Scotty, after quite a bit of after-hours research, believed he had found some correlations that would explain the _Haulat's_ construction and drive systems, and he was anxious to discuss his theories with Sa'aat. As he reached the ship, he grinned brightly. He slapped the _Haulat's_ skin, saying, "So, we meet again, eh, lassie?" From somewhere in the ship's interior, a distinct, low rumbling growl emanated. Scotty winked at Spock. "She kicks up a fuss like a crabbit (3) cow, but she loves me," he said.

Spock was none too certain about the accuracy of Scotty's statement, but kept his opinion to himself as he headed around the _Haulat_ to where Sa'aat stood. His former instructor was dressed in dark brown leather and a plain white shirt with a rimmed collar. He was surprised however to find the older man also sported a dark green, jagged, but healing wound on his left cheek.

"A run in with a very drunk and very persistent _bekk_ (4)," Sa'aat explained as checked the _Haulat's_ skin for injury or damage of any kind. "-- The Klingon did not have a good day."(5)

"You should exercise more caution," Spock suggested, touching his fingertips to the ship's skin as well. It shivered at the contact.

"You will forgive me, Spock, if I take on advisement any caution issued to me from the man who took down the Romulan ship _Narada_ with a collision-course suicide run in a stolen spacecraft."(6)

"It was not suicidal." Spock replied, "I survived, did I not?"

"You were reckless."

"This coming from a man whose occupational hazards include engaging in hand-to-hand combat with very drunk, very persistent Klingon _bekks_."

"True," Sa'aat conceded. "We are both brazen in our temerity."

"Evidently."

" -- A very unusual trait among Vulcans."

"Undeniably," Spock agreed. He then added an honest, "It is good to see you, osu (7)."

Sa'aat raised his chin slightly, a Vulcan physical cue which implied agreement.

While both Vulcans maintained contact with the _Haulat_, they then shared a receptive gaze, minds joining without direct touch on a very surface level. In short bursts, such contact was somewhat akin to a warm hello, a sort of mental hug. Prolonged contact, however, was considered far more intimate, and most Vulcans extricated themselves from such an exchange before it tipped to that side of the meter. Sa'aat, however, did not want to extricate himself.

Then something Scotty did made the hide of the _Haulat_ sparkle with static, and the Vulcans could hear the engineer yelp when the shock of it hit him. Their thin link shattered at the sound of him, and Spock blinked against the suddenness of it.

Sa'aat lowered his eyes, somewhat ashamed of his desire to keep Spock connected to him, if only in that feeble way, and then said softly to his ship, "_Haulat, _kloshah(8)."In response, the vessel's skin rippled like a visual purr, and the interior gave out a small sigh.

"She's alive, isn't she," Scotty asked -- or actually stated -- nearly breathless, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he approached the Vulcans, his face radiant with anticipation. He cradled in the hand that had gotten the worst of the static shock, but he didn't seemed discouraged by the pain in the least.

"Mister Scott has been preoccupied with your vessel since he first encountered it," Spock said, looking at Sa'aat, his expression a mask of composure again. "I do not believe you will have a moment's peace until his questions are answered."

"Then, perhaps, I should answer them," Sa'aat concluded.

"Oh, that'd be grand!" Scotty beamed. "I have about a million of 'em!"

"A million -- " Sa'aat looked less than overjoyed by the prospect.

"I will leave you to it, then," Spock said. "When you are finished here, Sa'aat, Doctor McCoy requests your presence in the Medical Bay. I can have someone escort you there, if you wish," he added.

"I remember the way," Sa'aat answered. Once given directions to a place, a Vulcan never forgot them. "May we speak later?"

"I am on duty until seventeen-hundred hours," Spock stated. "But... perhaps afterward."

"I look forward to the opportunity," Sa'aat said with a bow.

Spock returned the gesture with a bob of his head and left the Bay.

Sa'aat's eyes were still on Spock when Scotty, oblivious to the Vulcan's conversation, gushed, "She's of Coh'Lie (9) construction, isn't she?"

Sa'aat focused on the engineer. "Not precisely. The inner engineering is my own, but the sheath is from the Coh'Lie. And it is not a 'she'; it is a 'he'; a male _koko'dan_ (10)."

Scotty's eyes lit up. "A _koko'dan_..." he repeated. "And what is that, exactly?"

*********

In his quarters, Spock stood with his head against the wall beside the door for a moment. He needed to compose himself after his soft-link with Sa'aat, and the quiet and dark in his rooms helped to lull him. Even as he stood there, however, he chided himself for needing such moments of privacy. He was Vulcan, he repeated to himself; he should have more control.

"In hiding, are we, Little Brother?"

Spock startled, turning toward the voice.

Dressed in pale, taupe-colored desert travel gear and soft boots, Sybok stood at the computer workstation and flipped the monitor on. Its glow bathed his face in blue-green light, making him look surreal. His hair, pulled back into a short ponytail by a leather thong, seemed uncontainable, and his beard needed tending to, but otherwise he looked fit and... happy. Sybok always seemed to be smiling. Even when distressed or nose-to-nose with an adversary, he had a smile on his face. Spock had always considered that an indication of Sybok's bravery -- his ability to laugh in the face of danger -- whereas their father, Sarek, saw it as an indication that Sybok was quite mad.

Born to Sarek by a Vulcan princess (11), Sybok had been a promising and brilliant philosopher on Vulcan when he was younger. Upon the death of his mother, he had come to live with Sarek and was raised alongside Spock for a time. However, when Sybok embraced the ways of the _v'tosh ka'tur_, and promulgated his belief that the key to enlightenment was the open expression of emotions, not their repression, Sybok was shunned and eventually banished.

His sudden departure had been difficult for the young Spock who, although he had already made a commitment to the Vulcan way, had cared for his brother and understood the pressures that emotions could exert upon the Vulcan psyche. Spock had wished his father had been more lenient, more open-minded about Sybok; but even as he wished it, he knew Sarek would not yield. Nonetheless, after being banished, and in quiet defiance of their father, Sybok would return to Vulcan briefly and Spock would meet with him in the mountains outside the city. Sometimes they would walk and confer for hours, sometimes for days, but in the end -- always -- Sybok had to leave. Eventually, he stopped coming back altogether. Even after that, Spock would go into the mountains to look for him, and then sit alone under the night sky, trying to imagine where Sybok was and what he might be doing.(12)

First Sybok...

Then Sa'aat...

Then his mother...

It seemed that one by one, all those he loved and esteemed the most were in one way or another taken from him.

"Where are you, Little Brother?" Sybok asked him.

"In the mountains -- " Spock answered softly. He disentangled himself from his reverie, focused fully on Sybok and asked, "When did you get here?"

Holding his hands out at his sides, palms up, as though he had just completed a magic trick, Sybok smiled and answered, "Just now."

"Curious -- "

"Why is that?"

"I was not informed of your arrival."

Sybok shrugged. "You were occupied."

"Still, Security should have informed me, and..." Spock's eyebrows tightened slightly in the middle of his forehead. "How did you get in here?"

"Are your rooms off limits to me, Little Brother?" Sybok indicated the door. "It was not locked." Sybok approached Spock, placing kneading hands onto Spock's shoulders. "Tell me you missed me," he said imploringly, with his head tilted.

"I... I am on duty," Spock said instead.

Sybok's smile expanded to a grin, showing bright teeth. He gave a hearty laugh, taking Spock's head between his palms and pinching the tip of one of Spock's ears, just as he used to do when Spock was a child. "One could never damn you for not doing your job, and that's a fact, Spock. Always the good sa-kan. That's why Father always preferred you to me. You are the one he was always proud of."(13)

"Not always," Spock admitted. "But we are becoming more adept at understanding one another." Spock slowly turned his head to one side to release himself from Sybok's grip, taking a small step back to avoid any further tactile contact. "I am on duty, Sybok, but we may speak later -- "

"All right," Sybok said. "As you wish." He patted the floor twice with the soft sole of his boot. "I'll be here."

"Were you not supplied quarters of your own?"

"Oh, you know me; I always have a place to go, Spock," Sybok answered, still smiling. "But right now, I'd like to stay here... with your permission, of course."

"Very well." Spock stepped back toward the door, which, upon sensing his presence, opened with a slight "_shish_". He stood there for a moment, puzzling over his brother's unheralded arrival, and then said to Sybok. "I am off-duty at seventeen-hundred --"

"Then, I will see you then, Little Brother."

"We may have company. Sa'aat is also aboard; my former savensu (14)."

"The more the merrier, as the Humans say," said Sybok with a grin.

Spock nodded mutely and left his brother where he was.

*********

When Sa'aat arrived in the Medical Bay, he was not surprised to find Dr. McCoy, Nurse Chapel, and Captain Kirk waiting for him. The males stood facing each other, arms crossed over their chests as they argued, the female observing them from a few feet away.

"You're telling me that a little R-and-R wouldn't be good for him, Bones? Come on," Kirk said.

"A little R-and-R is just what the doctor ordered," McCoy countered. "I just don't think he should be taking it planetside, Jim; that's all."

"Uhura will be with him. She can keep an eye on him."

"If he goes off the deep end, I don't know if she can handle it. And I don't know that she should have to handle it. That's my job; that's Surrey's job."

_Surrey_ was a name Sa'aat had not heard before, and he looked at Nurse Chapel, cocking his head to one side in question. She stepped over to him and whispered, "He's the psychiatrist assigned to Spock..."

Sa'aat mouthed the word "Oh," as Captain Kirk continued with, "Well, I'm not going to order Spock to stay aboard the _Enterprise_ while everyone else is on shore leave. If he wants to go, he can go... Unless, you're going to make a big deal about this and throw the Chief Medical Officer card around again."

"When do I ever do that?" McCoy asked. Before Kirk could answer, the doctor realized Sa'aat was there and turned his perturbed expression on the Vulcan instead. "Well, it's about time you showed up," he groused.

"Dr. McCoy," Sa'aat said, unfazed, his voice and features level.

Kirk put a hand out and Sa'aat shook it as the captain said, "Glad you could make it. Did you get a chance to see Spock before you came up here?"

"Yes, Captain Kirk. He greeted me in the shuttle bay. I then spent an inordinate amount of time with your Chief Engineer answering somewhat less than his _million questions_. It appears he is enamored with the _Haulat_."

Kirk smiled a little and nodded. "That sounds like Scotty. Ships, food and drinks -- in that order. That's what he lives for."

"That seems rather hedonistic, does it not?"

"He's Human," McCoy snapped. "He's allowed." From a biobed, the doctor then lifted the PADD holding the report beamed to it from Sa'aat's vessel; information Sa'aat had gathered on New Vulcan with the medical tricorder. "We need to talk, Buster," he said.

"_Buster_?" Sa'aat looked to Nurse Chapel for an interpretation. "What is _Buster_?"

"It's a term Humans use to describe a male who is the focal point of a speaker's annoyance," she explained.

"Ah, I see. The doctor is annoyed with me."

"You're goddamn right the doctor is annoyed with you, you green-blooded son of a bitch!" McCoy barked, stepping into Sa'aat's space to such a degree that he nearly tread on the Vulcan's feet. "Where do you get off sabotaging my medical equipment?!"

Sa'aat was unflinching, his expression passive, his muscles relaxed; the look in his eyes was flat and dull in the Vulcan equivalent of calling an opponent a "wuss".

Unfazed by Sa'aat's lack of reaction, McCoy continued loudly, "Your actions interfered with my diagnosis of Spock's condition! I've been walking around in the dark, blind, for the last seven months because of you!"

"Whoa, Bones! At ease!" Kirk intervened, putting an arm between the doctor and Sa'aat to cordoned them off from one another. "Let's take this in the conference room."

"Fine," McCoy grumbled, walking toward Medical Conference One, not waiting for anyone else to follow him.

"Sorry about that -- " the captain said to Sa'aat.

"He is Human," Sa'aat answered frankly. "He is allowed."

*****

After her lecture in Briefing Room 2 -- which seemed excruciatingly long for just two hours -- Nyota unpacked her PADDs and visual aids, and went to her room's workstation to check her messages and the duty roster for the next few days. She "whooped!" gleefully when she saw Spock had scheduled eight hours shore leave for the two of them on the following day. Grinning, she said, "Computer, locate Commander Spock."

"Commander Spock is in Main Engineering, Deck 15," a computerized female voice answered.

Nyota was heading out the door when the overhead com-link system activated and Christine Chapel's voice instructed, "Lieutenant Uhura to Medical Conference Room One, please. Lieutenant Uhura to Medical Conference Room One. Acknowledge."

Nyota stepped back into her room, activated the verbal responder and said, "Uhura here. On my way."

* * *

(1) **Class** **M:** The classification According to the planet classification system developed for the Star Trek franchise, Class M planets are those with an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere and an abundance of water (in its liquid state) to support complex carbon-based life. Earth is a perfect example of a Class M planet. The Vulcans refer to such planets as being part of the "_Minshara class"_. There are A to Z classifications for planets. For more information see Mandel, Geoffrey (2002). _Star Trek Star Charts_. Pocket Books. ISBN 0743437705. According to Wickipedia: _"In fiction, Class M planets are similar to those suggested to be found in the real-world astronomical theory of life supporting planets found within the habitable zone (HZ), sometimes also referred to as the 'Goldilocks' zone." _The term "Goldilocks' zone" was coined in reference to planets with a habitable zone that is neither "too hot, nor too cold, but is just right" for humanoid life to develop.

(2) **R&R:** military shorthand for "rest and relaxation"

(3) **Crabbit**: Scottish slang for "bad tempered"

(4 ) **Bekk:** A Klingon Bekk is commonly referred to as a "warrior"; the lowest military rank for a Klingon

(5) This is in reference to the Klingon saying, "Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam"_ (_"Perhaps today is a good day to die.") Sa'aat fought with but did not kill the Klingon bekk, so the Klingon didn't have a good day.

(6 ) This is in reference to the plot point of the 2009 film, **"Star Trek"** directed by J.J. Abrams in which Spock flew the futuristic Vulcan "jellyfish" ship into the heart of the Romulan mining ship _Narada_ in order to stop the _Narada_ from destroying Earth.

(7)**Osu**: The Vulcan word for "sir"; usually used as an honorific for esteemed males.

(8) **Kloshah**: The Vulcan word for "behave".

(9) **Coh'Lie:** Not associated with the Federation or any other planetary allegiance, the Coh'Lie are an ancient and enigmatic race of mystical warriors.

(10) **Koko'dan:** the Coh'Lie word for "husk". A koko'dan is a kind of symbiotic creature that can adhere itself to any surface -- living or unliving. It pulls energy and low-grade radiation from the host, and in return supplies the host with a form of living armor and the ability to become invisible to the naked eye on demand. They live and breed in the vacuum of space, but they are readily adaptable to extreme atmospheric, gravitational, and temperature variations, and can survive in almost any environment. The koko'dan were originally genetically engineered by the Coh'Lie as a sentient outer sheath for their ships, the 'Mantas', to provide them with an extra layer of naturally ablative armor, and the ability to cloak without the use of the ship's power. A koko'dan could link to the Coh'Lie captain's mind through a conduit, and react with the speed of thought to any command given by the captain. In ancient times, they helped make the Coh'Lie invulnerable to attack. Legend has it: _"No ship ever stood against a Coh'Lie Manta and survived."_ // Today, the Coh'Lie generally act only in defense of their own world, and are not predatory or exploratory in nature. Once their wrath has been excited, however, they kill without empathy or deference, and have been known to extinguish entire races in order to secure their privacy and self-supremacy. The Coh'Lie system, therefore, has been labeled a "quarantined area" and no Federation or Vulcan vessels are allowed to go there. Nonetheless, in my own back-story on Sa'aat, I devised that Sa'aat's expanded mental acuity and telepathic range were a result of his having spent time with the Coh'Lie people. It was also during that time when he acquired the koko'dan with which to sheath his own vessel, the _Haulat_. **Author's note:** The Coh'Lie, the koko'dan, and the 'Manta' ships are all my own creations and are NOT a part of Trek canon.

(11) **Sybok:** A lot of the information on Sybok is considered apocryphal; and there are a lot of blanks and unanswered questions surrounding his history and heritage. In the film _"Star Trek: The Final Frontier"_ (1989) fans were first introduced to Sybok. The film suggested that he had been Sarek first's child, born of Sarek and a unnamed Vulcan princess, but the relationship between Sarek and the princess was never explained. According to the rest of Trek canon, it doesn't appear that Sarek was ever legally "married" to the princess, which opened up speculation that the two had been bonded as children, and that during a Pon Farr, Sarek had mated with the princess, but then either rejected her as a wife, or she rejected him. It is also possible that Sarek and the princess had an affair outside of Pon Farr, but Vulcans generally frown upon sexual trysts (as emotionally motivated and illogical). // Regardless of the conditions of his birth, after he was born Sybok stayed with the princess until her death (which isn't unusual; Vulcan children usually stay with their mothers regardless of who their fathers might be). How the princess died was also never addressed. In _"Star Trek: The Final Frontier,"_ Sybok commandeers the _Enterprise_ and takes her beyond the rim of the galaxy to a planet he believes is _Sha Ka Ree_ (the Vulcan's term for "paradise" or the place where the gods dwell). He is then presumably killed by the creature that lured him there... But his death was not entirely certain, and whether or not his_ katra_ (the Vulcan word for "living spirit") survived the encounter was never addressed... So, basically this means that fanfic writers can have a lot of fun with the character; including me.

(12) **The Mountains:** This bit is NOT part of Trek canon. I extrapolated it from a discussion Sarek once had with Jean-Luc Picard in which Sarek said: _"... I never knew what Spock was doing. When he was a boy he would disappear for days into the mountains. I would ask him where he'd gone, what he'd done; he refused to tell me. I insisted that he tell me; he would not. I forbade him to go; he ignored me. I punished him; he endured it, silently. But always he returned to the mountains; one might as well ask a river not to run. But secretly I admired him, that proud core of him that would not yield..."_ (Star Trek: The Next Generation, "Unification: Part 1" (5.7) (1991)

(13) **Sa-kan:** the Vulcan word for a male child. Female children are called ko-kan.

(14) **Savensu**: the Vulcan word for "teacher".


	6. Chapter 6

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_With thanks to my fanfic collaborators "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

When Nyota arrived at Medical Conference Room One, she didn't know what to expect, but since she suspected it had something to do with Spock's mental condition, she was eager to attend. Dr. McCoy, Nurse Chapel, Dr. Surrey, Captain Kirk and the Vulcan, Sa'aat sat at the large, white, highly polished conference table which dominated the room. Nyota ignored the empty seats furthest away from the others, taking a seat instead next to Christine Chapel, where she felt, she could engage the others and not be left out of any discussions or sidebars that might take place. After settling into her chair, Nyota folded her hands on the tabletop. Christine reached out and gave Nyota's hands a comforting pat with one of her own, and Nyota gave her a smiled thank you in return. Sa'aat offered the lieutenant an emotionless glance from across the table but nothing more. Dr. Surrey, looking as though he might have slept in his Medical-Blues, winked at her the way a favored uncle might, and Dr. McCoy looked at her with what seemed like uneasiness in his face.

"Thank you for joining us, Lieutenant Uhura," Kirk said from the head of the table, sounding unusually formal.

"Captain --" Nyota responded with a slight bob of her head.

"You know everyone?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Okay, then, let's continue..."

Kirk turned his seat slightly to his left, and Nyota realized that a communications view screen set up there transmitted the image of Sarek. He was seated in the rear compartment of a large shuttlecraft that was, as far as she could tell, in flight. Behind Sarek, a narrow aisle lead to a cockpit area manned by two Vulcans, a male and a female, with their backs to the view screen.

"As I was saying, Ambassador Sarek, as a follow-up to our previous discussion," the captain began, "information has come to my attention in regard to Commander Spock which impacts his physical and psychological well-being..." Nyota noted that as the captain spoke, he stopped occasionally to ponder his words briefly.

Kirk continued, "...I am hoping that by sharing this information with you, and with the others in this room, we can... come to some sort of agreement on how best to address the issues and formulate, for Spock, an effective treatment regime which... hopefully... will result in his being able to return to active duty as soon as possible. It is understood by all present that the information discussed here is considered absolutely confidential and may not, and will not be discussed with... um, anybody else... without expressed written permission."

The captain looked around the room to the other participants. "Okay?" he asked, and received general nods from everyone else in the room. He leaned toward the view screen saying softly to Sarek, "Ambassador, are you comfortable discussing this information in front of the shuttle crew?"

"I have little choice, Captain," Sarek answered frankly. "The size and configuration of this shuttlecraft does not furnish one with a great degree of privacy. However, I will say that this particular shuttle crew is comprised of Vulcans known to me to be of high character who have, on all occasions, shown deference to me and great discretion in matters of my personal interest. You may, therefore, continue."

"Okay, then... Let's start with Doctor McCoy..." The captain leaned right, toward McCoy, and said quietly, "And, uh, keep in mind, Bones, this meeting is being recorded."

"Are you telling me to watch my mouth, Captain?"

"Pretty much, yeah --"

McCoy rolled his eyes, but stood to make his presentation. A large projection screen lit up opposite the com-link view screen, and Christine and Nyota had to swivel their chairs in order to face it.

The projection was a holographic cut-away view of Spock's body stripped down to its skeletal and muscular structures. According to the title bar, the image contained data gathered by the two medical scanners and a medical tricorder. The holograph, which turned and pivoted on input and verbal cues from Dr. McCoy, was surrounded by detailed captions and drop-down memo fields which, when accessed, supplied viewers with more descriptive information, both in medical jargon and layman's terms.

"Seven months ago, Commander Spock returned to the _Enterprise_ from New Vulcan having been subjected to a chemically induced plak-tau, in accordance with the Ek'tevan Prerogative edict. Scans of the commander at that time revealed he suffered from multiple abrasions and contusions." Arrows appeared in abundance all over the image. "...Punctures -- most of them caused by teeth, lacerations, muscle strains..." More arrows appeared. "...And hairline fractures to the right clavicle, articular capsule, right iliac crest, left mandible, and the orbit around the right eye." His words caused still more arrows to light on the chart.

"Taking into consideration the density of the Vulcan skeletal structure, I think it's pretty safe to say that more than _necessary force_ was used to cause damage to the bones(1)," McCoy said pointedly. "In addition, Spock suffered from dehydration, fever, hypertension and congestive heart dysfunction caused by an accelerated and irregular heartbeat brought on by the plak-tau inducing drug." Longer text fields attached to the drop-down memo fields appeared on the projection, detailing each of the symptoms noted by McCoy.

"...Despite his condition, Spock bypassed conventional medical treatment at the time of his arrival on the _Enterprise_, and instead participated in a meditative and restorative sleep referred to by the Vulcans as a _po-zung_... The po-zung corrected the majority of his injuries; however, recently Spock reported to Nurse Chapel that he was still experiencing low-grade pain along the pelvic region. A follow-up scan is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. We have also learned that, since returning from New Vulcan, Commander Spock has suffered from sleep deprivation, recurring nightmares, and has recently experienced a hallucination. It is unclear if these are directly related to the plak-tau drug, and/or are manifestations of psychological complications, but that's part of what we're all hoping this, and subsequent meetings, will help to clarify."

The holographic depiction of Spock shrank into the lower right corner, while the rest of the screen remained blank until McCoy's verbal cues activated the appearance of other images. "Now," McCoy continued. "We were told by the then-seated Vulcan Transitional Council that Commander Spock had been bred to no less than five females during his chemically induced plak-tau, and data from both the medical scanner and medical tricorder support that assertion. Along with his own blood and semen, Commander Spock's body was replete with the blood, saliva, tears and vaginal secretions of five Vulcan females."

Five different whorls of DNA showed up on the projection screen.

"Comparing these DNA structures with information secured by the former Kahr-Lan, Sa'aat, from the Medical Facility on New Vulcan, we were able to identify the five females as the following individuals..."

"Uh, excuse me, Dr. McCoy," Dr. Surrey interrupted, raising his hand.

"Yes, Dr. Surrey?"

"Do I even want to ask how Mister Sa'aat came by this information?"

"Probably not," McCoy answered.

"As a Kahr-Lan in the Vulcan Military, I had certain privileges granted to me by the State which allowed me access to documents that would have, under most circumstances, been classified," Sa'aat offered. "When I obtained the information, I had legitimate authority to access it."

"Are you comfortable this doesn't violate the standards of confidentiality as regards personal medical information, Dr. McCoy?" Surrey asked.

"The information provided here simply identifies individuals; it doesn't touch on any aspects of their medical history or current medical status, so I don't believe it constitutes a breach of medical ethics."

"Ooookay," said Dr. Surrey, leaning back into his chair.

Dr. McCoy turned back to the projection screen and stated, "Of the five females, this one is known as T'Liik."

When the woman's face appeared on the screen beside the depiction of her DNA, something Nyota couldn't name congealed and turned over in the pit of her stomach. Disgust, anger, resentment, jealousy... whatever it was lay there like a cold and unhealthy blob. She unconsciously put a hand to her belly to cover it.

She had seen the five females previously in the Medical Facility's surgical arena on New Vulcan. Two had already been bred to Spock and were sleeping when Nyota first saw them, and Spock was engaging the third... Nyota's face pinched at the memory. She had caught glimpses of his interactions with the fourth female, but couldn't bear to watch when the fifth was presented to him... (2) Since returning from New Vulcan, Nyota had, with some success, pushed the women out of her mind. Not thinking about them had been easy when they were nameless and unidentifiable. She could pretend they never existed; that they were somehow unreal. But here, was one of the five -- one who might be carrying Spock's child -- and Nyota had to fight to keep her composure. She wanted to vomit, she wanted to yell obscenities, she wanted to scream, and she wanted to cry... Instead, she balled her fist and held it over the unnamable blob in her stomach.

T'Liik was one who had been asleep when Nyota and McCoy first entered the observation and transcription station above the arena. At the time, Nyota hadn't gotten a good look at her, but the woman in the computer image was tall and lean, with dark tan skin and smooth black hair piled up on her head in broad curls. Her features were thin and fox-like, copper-eyed with a sharp nose. Her lips were sensual, full and well formed. In another situation, Spock might have been attracted to her, Nyota thought. The text field beside her picture stated she was the pid-com(3) of the Sonuk Maat (4), and had once been married but lost her husband and son when Vulcan was destroyed. She was twenty-seven years Spock's senior; still relatively "young" by Vulcan standards. Nyota frowned at the picture but said nothing.

"This one is Karil (5)," McCoy said, and a younger woman's image appeared. She looked almost childlike, with a moon-shaped face and large almond-shaped eyes. Her hair was in a short bob with bangs, and the contrast between her "masculine" hairstyle and cherubic features lent her an almost doll-like, androgynous quality. She was from Semuk's clan, the Sreem Maat, the text said, and was about nine years younger than Spock. She was the female Nyota had first seen mated to him, and the sight of her set Nyota's teeth on edge.

The third was identified as T'Edri, and Nyota remembered only catching a glimpse of her when T'Pau first handed T'Edri over to Spock. She was tall, and unusually voluptuous for a Vulcan. Her hair, raked back by large combs in the picture, along with her upswept eyebrows, made her whole face look as if it had been pulled tight. She was listed as a widow, the same age as Spock, from the Visch Maat.

"This is V'Rha'lahn," McCoy continued, and Nyota recognized her as the other sleeping female. She barely looked mature; it was a wonder she had been mated to Spock at all. She was willowy and flat-chested with a rather dour expression and small black eyes. The text stated that she was unattached, eleven years younger than Spock, and was also from Semuk's clan.

The fifth female was the one Nyota hadn't really seen or noticed. She was another member of the Sreem Maat named T'Cloo. She was unremarkable except for her ears which were as large and elongated as a male's. The text field indicated that she was about fourteen years older than Spock.

Before McCoy could speak further, Captain Kirk put a hand up to interrupt him. "Am... Am I reading this stuff correctly, Bones? Why are so many of them are from the Sreem Maat?"

"When Nero of Romulus attacked Vulcan," Sarek said from the com-link view screen, "planetary evacuation procedures ordered fertile females and small children evacuated from temples, schools and medical facilities first. Then private shuttles were allowed to leave. Of course, only the wealthiest families could afford or had ready access to private shuttlecraft on such short notice, and since Semuk's family was wealthy, his clan members survived when others did not."

"There's also --" Dr. Surrey started to say, and then stopped himself and looked over the captain. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Captain Kirk."

"No, go right ahead, Dr. Surrey. This is an open forum. Did you have a question?"

"Sort of." Surrey indicated the caption beside T'Cloo's image. "There's also a notation saying that this young woman is '_unaccounted for'_. What does that mean, exactly?"

"After she left the surgical arena, the medical staff apparently lost track of her. Like Semuk and T'Pau, she's disappeared," Dr. McCoy explained.

"That is not entirely accurate," Sa'aat corrected. Everyone looked at him for an explanation.

"Hiding more information from us, Sa'aat?" McCoy growled.

"The information is not so much hidden, Doctor, as it is simply, as yet, unrevealed," said Sa'aat, unfazed by the doctor's acerbic tone. "To be more precise, T'Cloo did not survive the plak-tau. When she was removed from the arena, she had already been pronounced dead. As she was a member of Semuk's clan, he claimed her body. What happened to it after that is unclear."

"Why don't the medical records show her as deceased then?" McCoy challenged.

"Medical records data can be purged, manipulated, lost, delayed..." Sa'aat answered.

"Yeah, well, you'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you -- "

"Gentlemen," Kirk warned softly.

"How did she die?" Nyota asked, in a barely audible voice.

Everyone turned to face her as Sa'aat answered frankly, "Her neck was broken."

"Did Spo-- ?" Nyota put her fingers to her mouth to keep from finishing the sentence.

"Although rare, it is not uncommon for females to be killed by a male in plak-tau," Sa'aat said. "In such a state, the male is bereft of sense and exerts no control over his physical prowess. Spock's actions may have lead to the death of T'Cloo, but he was not responsible for it."

"He may still feel responsible," Dr. Surrey argued. "Does he know he killed her?"

"What he knows or does not know, remembers or does not remember, is as yet uncertain," said Sa'aat.

"Which is part of the reason why we're having this meeting," Kirk reminded everyone. "We need to share as much information as we have with one another so we can better define what's going on with Spock and figure out some way to help him."

"Well, I just have a few more things to _'share'_," McCoy said. On the projection screen, the five DNA strands and their associated pictures shrunk around the holographic image of Spock's body, leaving the top half of the screen clear for more data.

"Although the Vulcans only admitted to Spock having been paired with five females, DNA evidence establishes there was, in fact, a sixth female who had some level of intercourse with Spock," McCoy stated, and a new DNA helix appeared on the top of the projection. "Additional evidence also proves he was sexually engaged by a male." A seventh helix joined the sixth at the top of the screen.

Dr. McCoy stopped for a moment to compose himself, then lifted his head and continued. "The medical tricorder, which provides far more detail than the medical scanners, indicated layers of bruises on Spock's body -- newer bruises over existing ones -- suggesting that during these last two encounters, Spock was most likely beaten into submission. Considering his exhaustion at the time, and his inability to reason due to the plak-tau drug, he didn't have much chance to defend himself. Concentrations of saliva on his face also suggest that at one point, the sixth female spat on him."

Christine looked at Nyota, reaching out to comfort her when she saw unshed tears had sprung up in the lieutenant's eyes. Nyota shook her head, trying to deny the facts presented on the screen. She then swept the tears away angrily so they didn't blur her vision of the projection.

"Now, it's our belief that any injury Spock sustained as a result of their... activity... was rectified by the po-zung, so he may not have a clue as to what happened to him..." McCoy said. "At this point, we don't know if that's a blessing or not."

"I'm assuming you've identified the sixth female and the male," Nyota croaked through a throat tight with anxiety.

"Yes. The sixth female has been identified as T'Pau," McCoy said. T'Pau's picture appeared beside her DNA strand. "And the male was Minister Semuk." Semuk's picture joined T'Pau's.

Kirk glanced back at Sarek's image on the view screen. The Ambassador's expression was inscrutable. At the table, Sa'aat, likewise, was unreadable.

Dr. Surrey raised his hand again, and said, looking over to Sa'aat, "The information here shows that these two are also '_unaccounted for'_."

Sa'aat gave him a level look and, after a pause, stated, "Former Minister T'Pau vacated her Council seat. One-hundred and thirteen days ago, she vanished from her estate outside of the main city on New Vulcan and has not yet been located."

"How can a high level, wealthy Minister just _vanish_?"

"It is a large planet and investigative resources are slim."

"Is she dead?" Surrey asked point-blank.

"Unknown."

"And what about Semuk?"

"It is perhaps best not to dwell on the disposition of Minister Semuk at this time," Sa'aat said bluntly.(6)

"Does that mean what I think it means?" McCoy interjected.

"I do not know, for I do not know what you think," said Sa'aat.

"Where is he?" asked Surrey.

"Unknown."

Nyota, trembling in her seat, barely heard what they were talking about. Struggling to maintain her self-control she said, "I... I don't understand," her voice shook, although she tried to level it. All eyes turned to her. She gestured toward the images on the screen. "How could they -- ? I mean... W-why? Why would they do that to Spock?"

Sa'aat looked down at the tabletop, concealing whatever information may have lain hidden in his eyes, while McCoy answered, "We don't know why. All we know is that there is evidence and these identifications are accurate. As for motive... At this point, anything I said about it would be speculation." He took his seat beside Captain Kirk again.

Dr_._ Surrey could tell from Nyota's expression that McCoy's '_we-don't-know'_ answer, while most likely accurate, was not helpful to her so he added, "If it's useful, let's go ahead and speculate for a little bit; throw some ideas around; talk in general terms... It'll be sort of like _'Rape 101'_... Okay?"

Nyota nodded, barely, and the others silently relinquished the floor to Dr. Surrey.

"Well," Dr. Surrey began, "historically, there isn't a lot of data on Vulcan rapists. Although they were once an extremely violent race, aggression was nearly expunged from Vulcan culture when they started following the philosophy of Surak. So, most if not all of the information we have on why rapists rape is based on studies of the crime as it is committed by Humans, not Vulcans."

Dr. Surrey rose from his chair to walk around the table as he talked. "When Humans rape," he continued, "they do it to express or exert power over their victims. Sexual gratification, although sometimes a component of rape, is not the predominant or precipitating factor; neither is procreation. Psychologists tend to categorize rapists into four distinct types, but there's a lot of overlap, so bear in mind that no single rapist conforms precisely to whatever category he or she may be placed in. And, yes, females can rape males; it's documented. Now, some individuals rape because they don't feel as though they're sexually desirable, and the forced intercourse is used as a surrogate for the intimacy they can't otherwise achieve. They're sometimes referred to as '_compensatory_' rapists. This type of assault doesn't seem to fit in this particular situation, though."

Dr. Surrey continued to talk as he circumnavigated the room. "There are also rapists who have questions or deep concerns about their own sexual orientation or their perceived role as males, or females. They exert their sexuality in forceful ways to prove their masculinity, or femininity to themselves and others. Most often, however, rape doesn't dispel the perpetrators' own sense of inadequacy for long, so they continue to repeat the offense as a way of reassuring themselves. A lot of serial rapists are born from this dynamic."

"I doubt a serial rapist could last long among Vulcans," Kirk said. "Their society's legal and moral ethics wouldn't tolerate it; and a predator like that would stand out like a sore thumb."

"Indeed," said Sarek. "Further, T'Pau and Semuk, to my knowledge, had not exhibited this type of behavior prior to their assault on Spock. Therefore, that category does not seem to fit our circumstances."

"I agree," Dr. Surrey said, stopping at the end of the table opposite Captain Kirk. "But there are two other general categories under which rapists can fall. One is referred to as the _'displacement'_ rapist. These are individuals who act out their anger or frustration through rape; displacing their rage onto their victims rather than facing whatever it is they're angry or frustrated about. Sometimes, the rage is so profound that the male displacement rapist can't achieve an erection -- which serves to make him angrier -- and he then uses objects to assault his victim. Female rapists often fall into this category, too; attacking males in retaliation for some perceived wrong done to them by another male, or perhaps by a legal system they felt didn't adequately protect them." Surrey started walking again, heading toward the projection screen. "The final type is the _'sadistic'_ rapist. Sadistic rapists rape for the hell of it. They inflict a lot of pain on their victims, and want their victims to suffer. They often use torture or terrorism, and revel in their victim's humiliation. Some sexual sadists are also serial rapists.(7)"

"The displacement one sounds closest to the mark," Captain Kirk interjected. "...T'Pau and Semuk were the architects of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, right? And Spock stood in direct defiance of their edict, and did so publicly... Could they have, I don't know, blown a gasket or something, and assaulted him because they felt he needed to be taken down a notch or put in his place; y'know, punished for defying their authority?"

"Vulcan's don't generally _'blow a gasket'_," Christine reminded him.

"Well, something was certainly '_off'_ about T'Pau," McCoy said. "Lieutenant Uhura and I saw how she reacted to Spock's refusal to submit to the chemically induced plak-tau. 'Livid' isn't usually a word applicable to Vulcans, but I tell you, she was livid. At one point she even stomped her feet and was practically spewing on people." McCoy turned to the com-link screen. "You can vouch for that, Ambassador. You were there."

"Her behavior was atypical, yes," Sarek conceded, "which is why she was prompted to vacate her seat on the Council."

"And Semuk was like her lap dog," Nyota said bitterly. "He followed her around; did whatever she asked him to do; agreed with everything she said..."

"He was enamored of her," Sa'aat said.

"Decided to speak up about Semuk, after all, did we?" Dr. McCoy put in.

Sa'aat ignored the doctor's comment and went on, "Semuk lost his spouse when Vulcan was destroyed. Subsequent to the p'pil'lay(8), he had hoped to take T'Pau as his mate. She initially resisted his overtures, since his family was of a lower standing than hers, but she had come, over time, to consider him as a potential spouse. However, their relationship had not yet been consummated, legally or otherwise."

"And how do you know that?" McCoy asked.

"Semuk told me," Sa'aat said.

" -- Pretty chummy with him, weren't you?"

"_Chummy_?"

"It's a human colloquialism for friendly, cordial, sociable, intimate," Christine explained.

"We were not _chummy_, as you describe it. I was a Kahr-Lan in Semuk's army; our relationship was a professional one."

"But why did he make you a general in his army, Sa'aat? You never actually explained that to us," McCoy said, his tone implying that there was more to the relationship than simply a professional obligation. "Why did he like you and trust you so much?"

"I was unaware that any explanation was required," Sa'aat answered. "However, since you seem to be markedly consumed with curiosity as regards Minister Semuk, I will oblige you."

Sa'aat adjusted his position so that his chest and shoulders were visible to everyone and he faced Dr. McCoy directly. Dr. Surrey recognized this as a Vulcan posture called "the puv-tor"(9). It indicated Sa'aat sat in defiance of the others in the room, felt himself superior to them, and was responding to them with unsaid pride and confidence. "I was and am a member of the Hurgh Ghor Guild on the black-asteroid Dremarka 17 --"

"That's an assassins' guild, isn't it?" Christine interrupted, surprised by the revelation.

"Yes," Sa'aat said flatly.

Christine's mouth fell open. "You murder people?"

"I do not murder. I assassinate."

"Like there's a big difference?" McCoy asked.

"Murder is an illegal killing done with malice and for personal gain. Assassination is emotionless, impersonal, and quite legal in many parts of the galaxy."

"But I thought Vulcans didn't believe in killing. Isn't that in direct conflict with the teachings of Surak?" Christine asked.

From the com-link view screen Sarek spoke up. "Surak preached that one should not take another's life lightly, for once taken, a life cannot be returned (10). However, when logic dictates that a death is necessary, or in those instances when capital punishment for an offense has been decreed, all Vulcans have the capacity for killing. We are, all of us, taught the _eshak, ki'fa, tal'shaya_...(11)"

"A contract for the disposal of Minister Semuk was issued through the judicial system on Begara Seven," Sa'aat clarified, "and I was legally enjoined as a member of the Guild to implement the conditions of that contract."

"What did Semuk do that warranted execution?" Nyota asked.

"That information is restricted."

"You mean you were told to kill him, and you didn't know why?" Christine asked.

"No," Sa'aat said. "I knew why the contract had been issued. The restriction on the information surrounding the contract applies to you, and anyone else who was not a party to the commission of the offense or its adjudication."

"Was he convicted of a rape?" Nyota asked, her tone smoldering.

"The information is restricted," Sa'aat repeated, saying the words slowly, deliberately.

"You tried to protect Spock when he was on New Vulcan..." Nyota pressed. "You knew he was in more danger than just the forced implementation of the plak-tau drug..."

"You are speculating. That is unwise."

"Is it inaccurate?" Nyota snapped.

Sa'aat was silent.

"You bastard -- " Nyota said, jumping to her feet. Sa'aat remained unruffled and unyielding, and that made her angrier. She leaned across the table and shouted, "Tell me what you know!"

Captain Kirk stood and extended a calming hand toward her. "We're here to exchange information, not to argue or accuse, Lieutenant," he said, and the firm sound of command in his voice caused Nyota to restrain herself and sit back down again.

Kirk then turned to Sa'aat as he, too, retook his seat. "You were contracted to assassinate Semuk, but you didn't carry out the contract," he said. "Semuk lived -- "

Sa'aat replied, "When I went to Vulcan to administer the contract, the planet was under attack by Nero of Romulus. I assisted in the evacuation of many Vulcans, including Ministers T'Pessmar and Semuk. Semuk, aware of my employment, begged for his life, claiming he had been unjustly and inaccurately convicted. I found there to be sufficient cause for his appeal, and spared his life, pending further investigation -- as is the right of every Guild member. He was grateful..."

"And made you a general -- " McCoy said.

"Yes."

"He made his paid assassin a _general_ in his own army?" Dr. Surrey repeated.

"It was not... entirely... of his own volition, but, yes."

"What the hell does that mean?" McCoy asked.

Sarek intervened in the cross-examination. "Sa'aat has many skills. Although not quite empathic, his mental perspicacity is very refined."

McCoy looked back to Sa'aat. "You brain-washed him -- "

"As I understand that term, it is not accurate, no," Sa'aat said. "I forced nothing upon, and took nothing from Minister Semuk. I simply... guided him to his own conclusions, so that I might keep close to him while I continued my investigation."

"And, um..." Dr. Surrey asked, raising his hand slightly. "What was the outcome of that investigation?"

"You are an excellent Inquisitor, Dr. Surrey," Sa'aat said. The compliment was a real one.

"Answer his question," McCoy said.

Sa'aat looked at McCoy and stated, "The original sentence was sustained."

"You killed him -- " Kirk said.

"After facing him with the evidence of his guilt, and acquiring from him a confession of his crimes, I carried out the execution."

"Then where's his body?" McCoy asked. "The reports say he's missing."

"I left the body in the front room of his villa. If it is, in fact, unaccounted for, I do not know what became of it."

"-- And you weren't charged with a murder under Vulcan law because you had a contract for his execution administered by the Begara Seven Judiciary," Kirk understood.

"I was not charged with a murder under Vulcan law because I do not believe Minister Semuk's death is yet common knowledge. But, your assertion is otherwise correct. I would not be convicted of a murder, should Minister Semuk's body reappear, because I was acting under the veil of the adjudicated contract."

"You know, if you'd just tell us what the hell you know, Sa'aat, we wouldn't have to sit here for hours playing Twenty Questions with you," McCoy groused.

"I do not understand that reference," Sa'aat said.

"You're a smart guy; figure it out."

Captain Kirk tapped a finger on the top of the table. "Gentlemen, gentlemen... We're getting way off topic here. We were talking about possible motivations for a sexual assault on Spock, and ended up on an assassination contract. Let's... let's get back on-point, shall we?"

"Thank you, Captain Kirk," Sarek said from the com-link screen.

The captain looked to Dr. Surrey. "You were saying, Doc?"

"Well, I don't remember exactly," Dr. Surrey admitted. "But I do feel it's necessary to point out again that before we ascribe any motive to T'Pau's actions -- or to those of Minister Semuk -- we have to remember that what we're tossing around right now is pure conjecture. So, let's not get too attached to any one train of thought, or mistake our opinions for facts." He raked a hand through his silvering curls. "And there may also be an exculpating factor here that we haven't spoken to yet."

"Which is -- ?" Kirk prompted.

"The Vulcans went through an undeniably horrific trauma when they lost their homeworld; and since that time -- if you'll pardon my frankness, Ambassador Sarek, Mister Sa'aat -- some of their behavior on a societal scale hasn't been exactly _'reasonable'_ or _'logical'_, in the strictest sense -- which is how most Vulcans usually relate to logic. On New Vulcan, we saw the leaders pass and enforce an edict that forced their citizens to procreate, based on a fear that the Vulcan race was facing imminent extinction. Now, that kind of knee-jerk reaction to a problem would be out of character for Vulcans on a normal day. However, the destruction of their homeworld wasn't _'normal'_ -- and neither was their reaction to it. Drastic shifts in how societies behave aren't uncommon when they are faced with large-scale calamities like natural disasters, or wars, or terrorist attacks, or... whatever. Sometimes even when their intentions are good, leaders can make horrible decisions and commit legal atrocities, believing what they're doing is correct, and necessary and for the greater good..."

"Kind of like what happened on Taurus IV," Captain Kirk said.

"Exactly - "

"I'm not familiar with that," Christine said.

Kirk leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. "About twenty years ago the Earth colony on Taurus IV faced a widespread famine. The colony's food supply had been all but destroyed by a fungus, and in response the colony's leader, Governor Kodos, made the decision to execute over 4,000 colonists. He hoped that by paring down the population, the remaining food would be enough to sustain the survivors until new supplies could be brought in."(12)

"That is an extreme but very on-point example of the '_knee-jerk reaction'_ I was talking about," Dr. Surrey said. "Although the Vulcans' reaction wasn't as drastic as that of Governor Kodos', it could still be construed as unreasonable and ill-advised. For all of their history, logic and self-discipline, the Vulcans have never before had to deal with the degree of life-ending, life-altering trauma they faced when Nero destroyed their world. T'Pau and Semuk's actions may have, in part, been a delayed reaction to that catastrophic event of a year ago. Faced with a cataclysm they'd never encountered before, and probably feeling completely inadequate to protect the remaining population from extinction, something had to give... "

"Are you trying to make excuses for what they did to Spock?" Nyota asked through tight teeth.

"No. I'm simply saying there is a lot more going on here than just an assault on our Science Office."

"_Just__ an assault_ -- ?!" Nyota fumed.

"I didn't mean it that way," Surrey said, his voice calm and reassuring. He retook his seat at the table. "I'm not trivializing what happened to Spock, I'm just trying to put it into context. There's a history connected to this whole affair that we can't ignore. We have to consider that the destruction Vulcan could have been a contributing factor in the drastic shift in the temperament of the Vulcan Council members, and that it may also be a cause, in part, of Spock's current level of distress."

"You're describing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder -- " McCoy put in.

"Yes. But PTSD with a twist. Remember, Vulcans were also physiologically joined to their planet. Their seven-year Pon Farr cycle, for example, was inextricably connected to the evolutionary and ecological seven-year cycles of their world (13). When their planet died, so did a part of what makes the Vulcan people Vulcans. So there's also a real physical component to everything that happened, too. This is an unusually complex set of circumstances we're addressing here, and Spock is right smack dab in the middle of it. There aren't going to be any quick fixes for him or for the Vulcan people."

"I think we're getting a little off-topic here, again," Kirk interjected. "Let's not try to heal Vulcan society just now, or try to assess blame, or... whatever. Let's focus on Spock. I think we've pretty much beaten into the ground the fact he was assaulted. Right? Nobody questions that, do they?" There were no objections. Kirk went on, "Okay. Then the next question on the docket has to be: how do we help him?"

"Well, we can't answer that until we know what he's going through, Jim," said McCoy. "And you know Spock, he's always been pretty tight-lipped about his personal affairs."

"But we've already made some progress in that regard," Dr. Surrey chimed in. "The fact that Spock requested another session with me is... Well, it's huge. It means that even if he can't define what his problem is, he's acknowledging he has a problem and is seeking to address it. That's a required initial step in any therapeutic process -- and he took it without any prompting from me."

"How can he address something he can't even remember?" Christine asked. "I mean, I was under the impression the plak-tau inducement impacted short-term memory, making it impossible for the males to remember what happened while they were under its affect."

"That is, in essence, correct," Sarek said from the view screen. All eyes turned toward him. "The plak-tau inducement causes anterograde amnesia(14). Males injected with the drug remember nothing, or little, of their experiences while exposed to its influence: vague images, a few sounds, scents... Both Sa'aat and I were subjected to the drug, and remember very little."

"But, how can Spock even begin to deal with being raped if he doesn't even know a rape took place?" Christine asked.

"Captain Kirk suggested earlier, and I tend to agree, that because Spock is half-Human, there is the possibility that he may have retained more memory about his plak-tau than did the rest of us," Sarek said.

"It's more than possible, Ambassador. I'd say it's probable," Dr. Surrey stated. "I've only had one session with Spock, but some of what he's described to me from his dreams and hallucination, and some of his more subtle actions may indicate, on an unconscious level at least, he remembers a lot more than we think he does... And that poses a real problem."

"How so, Doc?" Kirk asked.

"Well, try to imagine how you'd feel if your mind was pushing half-chewed images up to the surface of your consciousness about an incident you couldn't remember. You can't tell what's an actual memory and what's a metaphor; you can't tell what's real and what's hallucination. And because you can't differentiate between the two, you don't know how to react; if you should be angry or not, or scared or not, or defensive or not. Confusion would tug up every bad feeling or question about yourself you ever had -- every loss, every doubt, every wounding ever experienced -- adding a layer of utter bewilderment to a situation already rife with anxiety."

"I think that's what Spock's going through right now," Nyota said.

"So do I," Surrey confirmed. "His mind is a mess, and he's trying to clean it up, to extricate himself from the tangle inside of it, to get back on his feet."

"So, how do we help him, Doc?" Kirk asked.

"That's the problem. The first question we have to ask ourselves is: do we tell him what happened to him or don't we? If we don't tell him, then we have to spend the rest of our lives lying to him about it, or avoiding the subject altogether, which, as intuitive as Spock is, would be almost impossible. He'd pick up on it immediately. Then, not understanding why we were lying to him, he might doubt himself even more, become more anxious, more confused, more disconnected from himself and those around him... We could end up doing more damage than good."

"Soooo, we tell him -- " Kirk said, half questioning.

"Well, it's not that easy. On the one hand, if we tell him what happened, it may help him put everything into perspective and allow his conscious mind to better cope with whatever he's experiencing right now; put him on the path to recovery... On the other hand, if we tell him, the shock might just push him right over the edge and dump him into a psychological bear pit he can't get out of, and then we're back to damaging him again. You also have to be aware there is always a degree of self-blame and shame rape victims experience once they've acknowledged what's happened to them, even though they themselves didn't do anything wrong. If we tell Spock what we know, and he understands we had the facts before he did, the mortification and disgrace he may go through could be... incredible. I've never treated a Vulcan rape victim before; so I have no idea how he might react. I'm pretty much flying blind here."

"There is also the complication of the Vulcan mind itself," Sarek reminded everyone.

"Exactly," said McCoy. "Vulcan brains are wired differently than Humans'. It's not unusual, for example, for the Vulcan mind to manifest deep mental trauma in a physical way. With Spock that could be reflected in his inability to sleep and the pain he's feeling in his body. In extreme cases, the Vulcan brain can even completely neutralize parts of itself to stop the memory of the trauma from further affecting the rest of the system. If that happens to Spock, we may lose him altogether."

"So, if we don't tell him, it may hurt him; and if we do tell him, it may hurt him." Kirk summarized.

"The proverbial rock and a hard place -- " said Surrey.

"Well, crap," Kirk snarled.

"Is there any possibility of using the Fulara," Dr. Surrey asked the Vulcans.

"What's that?" the captain asked.

Sarek explained, "The Fulara is an ancient Vulcan ritual in which traumatic memories are subjugated by burying them so deeply in the unconscious that they no longer impinge upon the conscious mind."

"Are there any Vulcans left who still know how to perform that ritual?" McCoy asked.

"Sa'aat is an Adroit," Sarek stated. "He gained the skill when he was one of the brethren at the Ip-sut Monastery." Everyone looked to Sa'aat, but he sat without movement or expression.

"That sounds good," Kirk said. "Why don't we try that?"

"We'd first have to tell Spock what happened to him, so he would understand why the Fulara was necessary, and... We'd be back to square-one," said Dr. Surrey.

"Do we have to tell him?" Kirk asked. "Can't you _whammy_ him while he's asleep or something?"

"Invade his mind and abscond with his memories?" Nyota asked. "Hasn't enough been stolen from him already, Captain?"

Kirk ignored her terse, insubordinate tone, and answered gently. "If it'll help Spock in the long term --"

"It's obscene --"

Sa'aat crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I will not perform the Fulara without Spock's knowledge and permission." He then sat forward, placing his palms on the table, with his head slightly lowered in what, Dr. Surrey knew, was a gesture of contrition among Vulcans, and continued, "I made an error in judgment when I first saw and removed the data presented here today from the Federation medical banks. I thought by doing so, I could assist and protect Spock; believing the plak-tau inducing drug was strong enough to keep the memory of what happened to him from incapacitating him. His mind is more complex than even I realized, however, and I now understand and acknowledge that my actions were... ill advised."

"Is that an apology?" McCoy asked.

"Sounded like one -- " Kirk said.

Sa'aat sat back in his chair, slowly, and refolded his arms across his chest, saying, "Lieutenant Uhura is correct. Nothing else should be stolen from Spock, and no other decisions about him should be made without his presence and full consent. Spock is a Vulcan. When presented with facts in a direct fashion, he will endure. We must tell him the truth."

"Agreed," said Sarek from the com-link view screen.

Captain Kirk looked to Dr. McCoy. "Bones?"

"We won't know how he'll react until we tell him, Jim, but I agree," McCoy said. "He has a right to know what happened to him so he can make an informed decision about what to do next."

"Nurse Chapel?"

"Spock can handle it, Captain. I think we should tell him."

"Uhura?"

"He's struggling so much right now, Captain." Tears welled in Nyota's eyes again. "He's so strong, but... He doesn't understand what he's going through, or why, and the confusion is eating him up inside." A few tears spilled onto her cheeks and down the front of her uniform, yet she continued, "I don't know how to tell him, but I agree he needs to be told. I'll need help, though, in learning how to assist him; how to approach him; how to handle him, touch him. I need to know what to do so I'm not pressuring him, or re-traumatizing him..."

"I can help you with that," Dr. Surrey said.

"So, do we tell him, Dr. Surrey?" the captain asked.

"The truth always has a way of coming out no matter what we do, Captain," Surrey admitted. "Spock is dealing with a whole variety of stressors: PTSD, the destruction Vulcan, the death of his mother, the forced breeding with females he didn't know, two rapes he can't remember, and... the possibility that he might be the father of children he never planned for. That's a lot to heap onto anyone's therapeutic plate. However, if I'm going to establish a bond of trust with Spock in therapy, I can't lie to him. Right now, he's willing to seek therapeutic intervention for what he's going through, which means he's receptive to help and change. If we're going to tell him what happened, this would be the best time to do it."

"But, what about the _'bear pit'_ -- ?"

"It's always there; and that sucks, but it will always be there until Spock puts a lid over the top of it himself."

"Okay, that pretty much sounds like a consensus to me," Kirk said, running a hand over his face. "So... how do we tell him?"

*****

When the meeting ended, Nyota's head felt heavy and full of pain. They had agreed to wait until Sarek arrived before revealing anything to Spock, allowing him to enjoy his shore leave -- as much as he could enjoy it -- and allowing time for Surrey to give Nyota a primer on how to exist as the partner of a rape victim. Until Sarek's arrival, though, Nyota had to stay mute about the subject. The idea of hiding things from Spock, or avoiding his touch for fear he might "read" something in her, or lying to him made her heart ache.

"I would kill for a shot of Jack (15), right now," she muttered to Nurse Chapel as they stood for a moment in the corridor outside the conference room.

"Come to the Medical Bay," Christine said. "I can get Dr. McCoy to prescribe something for you that's better than that for a headache."

"Medicine or _'medicine'_?" Nyota asked with a pained smile.

"A little bit of both. Something the Andorians cooked up."

"Ooo. Sounds interesting. I might just take you up on that."

Dr. McCoy and Dr. Surrey both exited the room, with Kirk following them. The men muttered to one another, so engaged in their after-conference conversation they didn't realize they had left Sa'aat in the room. As Nyota reached back into the conference room to shut off the lights, she saw Sa'aat standing before the projection screen, looking at the images of the five Vulcan females. His arms were crossed, but he reached out periodically to tap the screen in order to activate the drop-down menu features.

"Do you know if they're pregnant or not?" Nyota asked from the doorway.

Sa'aat turned to her, arms still crossed, his face expressionless. "No," he said. "I no longer have access to the medical data banks on New Vulcan."

"But you could find out... if you really wanted to," she suggested.

Sa'aat's eyebrows rose. "Yes," he said turning back toward the screen.

"Don't you want to know?"

"The disposition of any child of Spock is Spock's concern, not mine. If he wishes me to investigate, I shall. If not, I shall not. The decision is his."

Nyota took a few steps into the room with Christine a silent step behind her, and said, "I know this may not mean much to you, but... I want to apologize, and to thank you..."

"Indeed?"

"The apology is for snapping at you during the meeting. I was out of line, emotional, and I'm sorry. The thank you is for agreeing with me about not forcing the Fulara on Spock."

"My opinion on that matter was my own," Sa'aat said.

"I know, but... it coincided with mine and gave mine support, so... Thank you."

Sa'aat turned off the projection screen and headed toward the door, passing Nyota and Christine on his way out. Nyota's eyes followed him. When he reached the door, she said, "You don't like me much, do you?"

Sa'aat stopped. He turned to face her and said, "I neither like nor dislike you. I have no feelings or regard for you in any capacity whatsoever. You are irrelevant to me. My only concern at this moment is for Spock."

"You love him, don't you." It was a statement, not a question.

"My state of mind regarding Commander Spock is not subject for conversation, Lieutenant."

"You were intimate with him when he was younger, as his savensu. You know him better than most of us. You monitored him and his family since that time; followed his career. You protected him on New Vulcan, and you're protecting him now..." Nyota said. "I don't know you... I don't pretend to understand what it is you feel for him -- or if you feel anything for him -- but I recognize that you love him, that you care about him, and I don't mind that. I don't consider you a rival, and I would like us to be allies -- for Spock. I think he can use all the friends and champions he can get right now. So, if there is any way you can help him; if there is any way you can offer him support; if he needs you to... to supply him with strength, or protection, or fondness, I want you to do it."

"I was unaware that I required your permission," Sa'aat said.

"You don't... but I'm giving it to you anyway."

Sa'aat was quiet for a moment, and then stepped out into the corridor without a response. Still considering Nyota's remarks, he was heading off when Christine called to him. "Um, Sa'aat -- "

Sa'aat returned to the doorway, an eyebrow raised.

"I need to see you in the Medical Bay, too. For a quarantine check and release; just routine."

"Very well," he said with a long, heavy sigh.

"You could try to be a little more enthusiastic about it," Christine joked. Sa'aat gave her a slight scowl in return. "That's better," she said brightly.

* * *

(1) **Vulcan bones:** According to Vulcan Physiology at the Memory Beta site, Vulcan bones are denser than those of Humans; i.e., _"...Their muscle mass was much longer and their skeletal frame was denser compared to Terrans which was a direct result of their living on a higher gravity world with a thinner atmosphere... Although the bone structure of the Vulcan skull is thinner, the actual skull casing is formed of extremely dense matter which allows a thinner depth of bone actually to be harder as well as stronger than a human skull. Thus, fatal blows to a Human head are less life threatening to a member of this race."  
_(2) To really understand what's being described here, you'll need to read my other story **"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"**.  
(3) **Pid-com:** the Vulcan word for a "matriarch"; the female leader of a family, tribe or clan.  
(4) **Maat:** the word "maat" is Vulcan for "clan"; the Sonuk Maat is the Clan of Sonuk.  
(5) **Karil**: the name means "winter" in Vulcan.  
(6) **Semuk**: In my previous story, _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_, Sa'aat killed Semuk and sent proof of the killing to T'Pau. At this point in this story, however, it's been determined that after the killing, Semuk's body vanished from his home and Sa'aat has not been charged with any crime. Sa'aat knows that Semuk is dead, but he doesn't know where the body went. Reading further in this chapter will reveal more of how Sa'aat himself chose to view his killing of Semuk.  
(7) **Types of rapists:** This information was gleaned from several different resources including but not limited to _"Why Men Rape"_ by Sharon Supriya; _"Why do rapists rape?"_ by Sheriff Raff -Answerhag ; and Feminist Critics Engendering Discussion: _"Can Women Rape Men?"_ [www(dot)feministcritics(dot) org].  
(8) **P'pil'lay:** The Vulcan word used for the breaking of a mind-meld between bonded couple either due to divorce or the sudden death of a spouse.  
(9) **Puv-tor:** it's the Vulcan word for "swell".  
(10) The quote attributed to **Surak** is actually, _"__Vah mau vah tor-yehat ri stau. Kup-fun-tor ha'kiv na'ish du stau? Dom nam-tor vohris nem-tor ha'kiv."_ It translates from the Vulcan as, "As far as possible, do not kill. Can you return life to what you kill? Then be slow to take life." Surak also said that if you take the life of another, you should join their mind as they die so you can feel their death; that way, their death is also yours.  
(11) **Eshak, ki'fa, tal'shaya**: these are all Vulcan words defined as follows: "eshak" is killing with the mind alone, "ki'fa" is killing in self-defense, "tal'shaya" is killing by breaking the neck.  
(12) **Taurus IV:** This story is in reference to the history of Taurus IV as relayed in the Star Trek TOS episode _"The Conscience of the King"_. (Episode 13, aired December 8, 1966) In that episode, it was revealed that some of Kirk's own family had been among the people executed by Kodos, and that the executions were entirely unnecessary because the supply ships arrived at the colony much sooner than expected, so there was more than enough food for everyone. **Author's Note:** From the original series, this was one of my favorite episodes. All of the performances were excellent, there's great interaction between Spock and McCoy, and the story unfolds very well.  
(13) **7-Year Cycles:** According to Star Trek on-Line Geekipedia: _"...__Federation doctors and biologists have noted this 7-year cycle in all Vulcan animal life to one extent or another. It is now believed that all Vulcan life was synchronized in this 7-year cycle at some point in the very distant past. Astronomers have noted a 7-year cycle of solar activity in the Vulcan star system and it is believed that animal life on T'Khasi_ (what Vulcans call their homeworld) _evolved to breed without fail during this time of especially low solar activity when radiation levels of all kinds were at their lowest..."  
_(14)**Anterograde amnesia:** a loss of the brain's ability to form memories after the occurrence that induced the amnesia occurs, leading to a full or partial inability to recall the recent past. This is often an effect of so-called date-rape drugs like Rohypnol; excessive drinking leading to a "blackout" can also cause anterograde amnesia. Usually the loss of function dissipates as soon as the drug fades from the body or recovery of the traumatic event occurs, and further memory is not impaired. **Author note:** I viewed the use of the plak-tau inducement drug as something like the use of a date-rape drug, because it incapacitated the victim to a great extent, allowing the state-sanctioned breeding (which Spock viewed as a rape, as it was against his will) to take place without interference and without requiring the victim's consent.  
(15) **Shot of Jack:** a reference to the alcoholic beverage Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey. In the 2009 motion picture _"Star Trek"_, during a bar scene, Uhura ordered a series of drinks and then asked for a _"shot of Jack, straight up."_


	7. Chapter 7

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_With thanks to my fanfic betas "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Spock, returning to his quarters at shift's end, encountered Nyota in the corridor. Truthfully, he had tracked her through the ship and placed himself where he was likely to meet her. The chosen corridor had the advantages of being one of the least-traveled ones in the main part of the ship, and as the shift-change was nearly complete, traffic would be even more sparse. It afforded Spock the opportunity to engage Nyota outside of their personal quarters, while still providing them with a modicum of privacy. He knew she had participated in a long, private meeting in Medical Conference Room One. That those who knew him best had met without his participation needled the part of him that seemed perpetually on-edge of late; yet, he admitted, the meeting might have had nothing to do with him. Considering recent events, his suspicions may have been a mild manifestation of self-delusion or paranoia. He wanted to talk with Nyota to gain some clarification about the subject. When he saw her, however, his concern was only for her.

Nyota looked tired and drained, however: her face pinched into a frown and her posture sagged. She ignored crewmembers passing her. It was unlike her to be so withdrawn, and Spock became more concerned about her than whatever may or may not have taken place at the meeting. Nevertheless, she smiled the full-faced smile she gave to Spock and Spock alone when she saw him. "Hey, you," she said. "How did your day go?"

"Productive," Spock said, approaching her. He put his palm against her cheek, and said frankly, "You look fatigued."

Nyota sighed. Despite his Vulcan strength, Spock's touch could be exquisitely tender; his fingers like the brush of a dove's wing against her cheek. "You have no idea. It's been a long day. And, please, don't remind me that the ship's day is twenty-four hours and point-zero-zero-four-five seconds."

"Twenty-four hours and point-zero-zero-four-three seconds," Spock corrected softly.

Nyota chuckled at the joke and kissed the heel of his hand. "I said, don't remind me."

Spock's hand drifted from her face to her neck and shoulder, and he drew closer to her to offer, as much as he could, his physical support. To support her more emotional nature, he also proffered his right index and middle finger.

The gesture, "the ozh'esta,"(1) was less than a kiss but more than a handshake in Vulcan culture and one of the few public displays of affection permitted by Vulcan society. Spock seldom used it with her, often opting for Human displays such as holding hands or openly kissing her. Considering his overall mental state, however, his use of the ozh'esta did not surprise nor offend Nyota. If that was as much contact as Spock could tolerate at the moment, she would oblige him. She placed her fingers against his. Vulcan fingertips were highly sensitized and, with permission, offered a personal, discreet avenue to their minds and emotional structure. Spock wasn't offering access, however, only the touch. For Nyota, it was enough. At least he wasn't isolating himself from her; he was still reaching out to her, she consoled herself.

"Your shift has ended, k'diwa," Spock said. "Why are you not retiring?"

"I am, sort of. Um, I'm actually on my way to the Medical Bay," Nyota answered.

It occurred to him the meeting may have revolved around her, and his eyes flooded with concern. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fine," Nyota responded, reading the worry in his large, dark Human eyes. "Well, actually, I'm sort of headachy, and exhausted, and generally... icky."

Spock scowled imperceptibly at the term. "Ich (2) is a disease exclusive to tropical fish, is it not?"

"That's i-c-h," Nyota answered with another light chuckle. "I was referring to the very Human condition known as i-c-k-y. It isn't a medical textbook reference, but it's an accurate description of my present state. Anyway, Christine said she had something Andorian that would help me unwind."

"A _Spleneth Aperitif_(3)," Spock intuited. "In small doses it is a very effective sedative with few, if any, side effects."

"Sounds like just what I need."

"Then perhaps you should take it," Spock encouraged.

Nyota smiled at him. Even with what he was going through, he was worried about her. She felt both blessed and somehow unworthy. _Why should concerns for __me__ cloud his mind when he has so much else to deal with?_ _I need to be careful not to pile my own baggage on top of everything else he's already carrying, _she thought_._

Spock pressed his fingers firmly against hers, then, looking down; he stroked the back of her hand. "If you are feeling fatigued, perhaps..." He met her eyes again. "Are you of a permitting disposition?" he asked, his eyes barely squinted. It was a habit; whenever he asked something especially significant to him his eyes would narrow just a bit, as though he was trying to see the answer before it was verbalized.

"What did you have in mind?" Nyota asked.

"I would like to beg a personal kindness." His formality and courtliness was always endearing. Nyota tenderly put her hands to his face. His hands dropped to her waist and he tipped his head forward until their foreheads touched.

_Déjà vu._ He had done the same when he had gone off with Captain Kirk to confront Nero. The mission had been fraught with hazards, and Nyota had feared he wouldn't return. In response to her unspoken dread, he had leaned into her and reassured her with, "I will be back." (4)

In the corridor now, their noses brushed against one another. As usual, Spock's skin felt like a fever against hers. Nyota held her breath for a moment, hoping Spock couldn't feel the anguish she had carried around since the meeting and her chat with Sa'aat. Her brain felt like it had taken in too much information, too quickly, and was on the verge of overheating. Nevertheless, she said, "You can ask me anything you want to, Spock."

He blinked, his eyelashes brushing her skin, and said quietly, "Since we are scheduled to spend most of tomorrow together on shore leave, and since you are in need of rest this evening, I was wondering if perhaps --"

" -- If we could spend the night apart," Nyota finished for him.

"Yes. Is that acceptable?"

"Oh, Spock, of course it is. I need a drink and a long nap. And you need some alone-time... to meditate, to rest, to catch up with Sa'aat…"

Spock caught something in her voice that was not favorable at the mention of Sa'aat's name. "Is Sa'aat an issue?" he asked. "I had planned on meeting with him later this evening."

Still cradling his face between her hands, Nyota leaned back a little so she could meet his eyes again. "He wants to be an issue, but mostly he's just kind of... I don't know, a pain in the ass." Spock's eyebrows knit slightly; he didn't like the use of crass vernacular (5). "Sorry," Nyota said. "You know me; I always have to watch my mouth when I'm tired."

"That seems to be true of many Humans," Spock agreed.

"Sa'aat and I..." She sighed again. "Our personalities don't jibe. I know he's your friend, that he was your teacher, but... "

"If he has been particularly unpleasant, I will speak to him."

"No, that's not necessary. I don't want him -- or you -- to think I'm a crybaby-whiny-Human complaining about him. No. I can manage him."

An eyebrow arched. "Really? Then you would be the first." Nyota chuckled again, dropping her hands to Spock's chest. He could be so wonderfully unintentionally funny at times.

"I know Sa'aat can be quite intimidating," Spock continued, his voice gentle. "But he is an honorable man, and his intentions are sound."

"I don't doubt that; you're a good judge of character. And I know he cares for you."

"Yes, he does, but... sometimes in such a way as to make reciprocation impossible."

"What do you mean?"

"He is sa-ka-ashausu(6)," Spock said. In the face of Nyota's shocked expression, he added, "I assumed you knew this; it is not a secret. Humans sometimes feel the need to be furtive about sexual preference, but Vulcans do not."

"Oh my God," Nyota said her mouth still gaping in surprise. "Well, that helps put things into perspective. Thank you." She thought a moment longer, and then giggled against Spock's shoulder. "Oh, my God!" she repeated. "Earlier this afternoon I told him if there was any way he could show you support or fondness, he should do it. Wow. I was being more generous than I realized. Like handing him the keys to the house while I was on vacation."

Spock looked puzzled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing," Nyota shook her head. "I just realized what Sa'aat's problem is. He sees me as a rival for your affection. That's why he's always so terse with me."

"Sa'aat is terse with everyone," Spock said. "And the sort of rivalry you describe is a Human condition born of envy or jealousy or covetousness. Sa'aat would not act on the impetus of such emotion."

"I'm not too sure about that," Nyota said.

"If my being with him makes you uncomfortable, I will not see him this evening."

"Oh, no," Nyota said. "Don't change your plans. He's an old friend, a guy, another Vulcan, someone you can talk to. Your relationship with him preceded any contact between us. I understand that, Spock. Besides, he may be able to offer you conversation, ideas, distractions and support that I can't. No, you should see him..."

"I will speak to him about our relationship; make the boundaries more clear to him."

"That's not necessary either. But -- " Nyota gave Spock a rather conspiratorial look. "If you'll give me permission to knock him back into line occasionally, I think we'll be fine."

"Very well, then," Spock said, conveying, as much as Vulcan sensibilities allowed, a quiet humor. "You have my permission to _'knock him back'_ as you see fit." Then more seriously, he added, "Bear in mind, however, that Sa'aat has the tendency to meet force with equal or greater force. I would not want the two of you coming to figurative or literal blows."

"Don't worry. We won't kill each other. It's okay." Nyota stood on her tiptoes, pecking his lips to seal their agreement. Spock's eyes closed upon contact, and for a moment, she thought he might part his lips and let her in, but he turned his face away, placing his cheek against her lips instead. Nyota's emotions welled up again, and she fought a growing tightness in her throat that made her want to cough and cry at the same time. "Spock."

"My apologies..." Spock said, and the unexpected, wretched confusion in his voice made her want to clutch him and caress him. However, she didn't know if embracing him would harm or help him. She hated feeling so... inert, so demoralized, so inadequate. In her silence, Spock continued, "Please, do not feel my reticence with you is in any way an indication that I regret our involvement, or I that wish to cleave myself from you. I do not. I --" He wasn't sure how to finish the sentence, and fell back into his native tongue as a last resort. "Nam-tor t'nash-veh fam.(7)"

"Spock. You don't have to say anything. You don't have to give me reasons or explanations. We understand one another," she said.

Spock's eyes went soft with the ardor his other features concealed. "Nemaiyo(8)," he answered.

Nyota smiled and gently patted the center of Spock's chest twice. It was an affectionate gesture his mother had used when he was younger; one he cherished now she was gone. "Thank you, for setting time aside for us to have some shore leave together tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it so much. I'll see you in the morning," she said. "All right?"

"Ha, k'diwa (9)," Spock uttered, taking Nyota's hands in his own, kissing her fingers.

Two uniformed ensigns came down the corridor toward them. Spock didn't look at them but Nyota turned to see who they were. No one she knew on sight. She looked back at Spock and said affectionately, "Good evening, Commander Spock."

Spock tilted his head acknowledging her feigned formality, which, he understood, was a little jest to lighten the mood. "Good evening, Lieutenant," he replied with echoing professionalism.

"Pick me up at my quarters tomorrow around oh-eight-thirty?"

"Precisely... Have you decided what you would like to do during our leave; where you would like to go?"

"Not really. I thought we'd just wing it."

Spock pursed his lips. _Winging it_ was not his preferred method of operation.

"It'll be fun." Nyota assured him. "You'll see. Trust me." Nyota gave his hands a reassuring squeeze, before she headed down the corridor, passing the ensigns on her way to the Medical Bay. She gave them a little bob of her head, more like herself again.

She was already gone when Spock realized he had neglected to ask about the meeting.

*****

"She loves you, you know," Sybok said.

"Yes," Spock said without looking at his half-brother. He put the final touches on the small table in the main room of his quarters, which he had set up for an informal meal for three. Plates, flutes of sparkling jade-water, long-forks, freshly brewed theris-masu, not the replicated kind, an elaborate tea set, and oblong bowls filled with kap, yarmok and pla-savas(10). Since the destruction of Vulcan, it was exceedingly difficult to come by real Vulcan foodstuffs, but the ship's galley had a store on hand for him, and Nyota always seemed able to ferret some out in the oddest shops on stopovers at star bases. There was also a plate of large Earth strawberries dipped in chocolate laced with Bhut Jolokia (11) pepper sauce; one of Spock's favorite treats. He looked over the setting, found it acceptable, and went to change his clothes in the adjoining bedroom.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Sybok called to him.

"Do?" Spock answered, returning to the main room. He had shed his Science Blues, but retained the rest of his uniform: black t-shirt, black pants, black boots.

"Yes, _do_, Little Brother..." Sybok answered him. He plopped down at the table and reached for a strawberry. Spock caught his sleeve to prohibit his hand from touching the fruit.

"Not with your hands," Spock said.

"Come now, you're not still abiding by that old tradition, are you?(12) Besides, when among Humans do as the Humans do. They eat with their hands all the time, don't they? Consider for a moment where they put those hands and their mouths, and then talk to me of cleanliness, hmm?"

"You will not speak of them thus," Spock said with a level tone that was more instructional than punitive. "Several of these Humans are my friends."

"And more than friends, eh, Spock? We were talking about Nyota," Sybok said, extricating his sleeve from Spock's grasp, no longer attempting to touch the food.

"Please refer to her as _Lieutenant Uhura_," Spock instructed.

"Why?"

Spock opened the lid on the teapot, then lifted the pot from the table with both hands and took a light whiff of its contents. He added a few more herbs to the tea as he said, "Because that is what she prefers from people she does not know well, or with whom she wishes to maintain a professional distance." He set the teapot back down onto the table to steep a while longer.

"All right, then... What are you going to do about _Lieutenant Uhura_? Will you make her your bondmate?"

"We have not yet made that decision," Spock said.

"But you're thinking about it -- "

"It has crossed my mind -- and hers, yes."

"You read her?"

"Yes. When she permits it."

"Well, that's an involvement that can be more intimate than the joining of bodies, Spock. I'm glad you're not entirely celibate. I always worried about you, you know. You're always so formal, so conventional about sex, so... chaste."

"Chaste? That is not a word I would use to describe myself, Sybok."

"No? Please, Spock, you think performing the ozh'esta with someone is tantamount to intercourse. Of course you're chaste! It's part of your charm. It's why the females all line up around you. They're attracted to your veil. _Will he or won't he?_ You're very mysterious to them."

"Nonsense," Spock said. "And when did you become an expert in female sexual attraction? Are you married? Do you have any prospects?"

"Oh, no," Sybok said, wagging a finger in Spock's direction. "You're not deflecting the focus of the conversation onto me, Spock. Others may let you get away with that, but I never have, and you well know it. We've always been frank with each other; no disinformation, no obfuscation. It's part of what I like about you. Now, we are talking about you and your pretty Lieutenant. Do you love her?"

"Yes, of course, I do," Spock conceded.

"Why so indecisive, then? Why not marry her?"

Spock tugged down the front of his shirt, "It is not so much a matter of indecision, Sybok, as it is a matter of complexity."

"Complexity," Sybok echoed.

"Yes. We have our careers in Star Fleet to consider. Marriage may complicate such things as duties, assignments to vessels and away missions, promotions, continuing education, the chain of command. Single entities may progress where married couples may not. I always have to be careful not to imply or act upon favoritism as it is. Marriage would make that more difficult."

"So... you're not marrying her because it may cause a minor inconvenience in how you interact with her in Star Fleet?"

"I am saying the prospect of marriage should not be taken lightly. There are many components which must be considered."

"In addition to the trifling impact it may have on your career, what else is there to consider?"

"Our life spans, the species variance... among other things."

"Life spans? You mean because you'll most likely outlive her.(13)"

"Yes -- "

"And you're worried she'll die before you, and you'll be left alone."

"It is something that must be considered, yes."

"Spock, she'll age and die whether you marry her or not. Delaying means you'll spend even less time together as mates; marry her sooner and you'll have more time to be intimate together. What is it the Humans say? It's the quality, not the quantity?"

"Perhaps -- "

"And species..." Sybok snorted. "You're already a half-breed, Spock, how much more complicated can it get than that?"

Spock bristled at the word _half-breed_, but kept himself in check. "I meant, that should we marry and be fruitful, bearing a hybrid child may be difficult for her," he explained. "And, as we are both acutely aware, Father has always wished that I take a Vulcan as my bondmate."

"Yes, but he chose a Human for himself, so why should he object to your doing the same?" Sybok reminded him.

"He does not openly object to Nyota, he simply would prefer that I take a Vulcan wife... especially in the aftermath of the destruction of our homeworld. There are so few Vulcans left..."

"The Ek'tevan Prerogative addressed that, didn't it?"

Spock cringed. "May we not speak of that -- "

"Refusing to address or acknowledge that which makes us uncomfortable... That's the Vulcan way, isn't it, Spock?" Sybok said with a sigh. "Take me as an example. I wholly embrace and display my emotions and for that I'm labeled V'tosh ka'tur (14). It's easier not to talk about me than it is to deal with my heretical views, so I am ignored by our father, shunned by Vulcan society, and banished from our world. Yet, I exist. I occupy space, I move through time, I have matter, I breathe, I live... Ignoring me doesn't make me disappear. Ignoring me doesn't make me any less real. Ignoring me doesn't mean you will never have to deal with me."

"I can deal with you," Spock said. "It is the edict which gives me pause."

"Then, since I have successfully diverted the conversation back onto that subject -- for which I applaud myself, by the way -- let's talk about the edict."

"I would rather not."

"I know, which is why you should talk about it. Allocating energy to ignoring the issue is an unproductive and illogical waste, Spock. Address it and be done with it."

"It is not that elementary a task."

"Now who's speaking nonsense? When a child makes a spectacle of itself, the reaction in Vulcan society is to ignore it so as not to bring attention to its loathsome behavior. But I say, spank the loathsome child to stop its noise, then speak with it to ascertain its needs and give it a model for future behavior, so you don't have to deal with its noise ever again."

"You would strike a child for misbehaving?" Spock asked, looking shocked by the idea.

"I was speaking metaphorically, Spock." Spock took the lid off the teapot again. "You did that already," Sybok reminded him.

"It must be tended to or it will turn bitter," Spock said.

"Are you talking about the tea or yourself?" Spock gave his half-brother a level stare and Sybok continued, "Quit trying to change the subject. The Prerogative: give me your thoughts."

Spock's features hardened as he strained to disguise his visceral response to the mention of the edict's name. He replaced the lid on the teapot, then sat opposite from Sybok, placing his folded hands in his lap. After a moment, he said, "The edict was an abomination."

"Did it not address the extinction of our race?"

"Yes, but in its enactment, it was a violation in every sense of the word."

"The Council did not believe so."

"They were misguided."

"How so?"

"There were other ways to achieve their ends, less dramatic, less intrusive, safer ways. They could have asked for the cooperation of the people rather than inflicting an edict upon them that stripped them of their liberty and their dignity... Mere phrases printed on a page stole from me my rights as a citizen, my choice of a mate, my options of whether or not and when to father children, my power over my own body, the control of my mind, my will. It was all looted from me within seconds, Sybok."

"The people didn't complain... none except you, that is."

"I know... And, truly, I do not understand why that was so. Surely others saw how injudicious and unreasonable the edict was, how illogical it was, how evil it would become."

"Others? Are you speaking for the entire Vulcan population, or just some individuals of your acquaintance?"

"Both. All."

"Sa'aat and our father -- "

"Yes. They explained their reasoning to me, why they complied with the edict, but still...(15)" Spock paused for a moment, then asked. "Were you called upon to adhere to it?"

"A vrekasht(16) like me?" Sybok chuckled. "They won't even let me on the planet."

"Then you have no point of reference when I tell you that, when faced with the edict, I became... an _appliance_... for the State, a stock animal to be bred, a thing without a voice, without reason, forced to betray my promises and commitment to Nyota with females I had never met before. I do not understand why others did not pose objections to it as did I. It was barbaric, atrocious. The ugliness and evil of it still taint my mind."

"Your nightmares and hallucinations."

"Yes. I cannot escape it. It follows me everywhere, even into sleep."

"Then perhaps you should go to battle against it. Face it down, dispatch it."

"I do not feel capable. My mind is a snarl of half-feelings, and fragments of thought, and unformed images... "

"You are more than capable, Spock," Sybok assured him. "You are one of the most skilled and sagacious men I know. Was it not you who flew the _Jellyfish_ into the heart of the _Narada_?"(17)

"You give me too much praise."

"You give yourself too little. When you put your mind and will to a thing, nothing can best you, Spock. Even as a child, no one, not even our father, could break your iron resolve."

"How can I put my mind to a thing I cannot clearly see? There are only phantoms for which I have no definition, no understanding." Spock shook his head, and after a pause muttered in a low voice, "I do not even know their names, Sybok."

"Whose names?"

"The females to whom I was bred. I do not know who they are, their familial ties, if they were willing participants -- or forced as I was. How can I put my mind to the task of addressing them when I do not know who they are, or what I did, or...?"

"The question of their identities can be easily rectified, Spock. They don't need to remain anonymous to you."

"But how can I seek their identities without appearing to neglect my obligation to Nyota? If I honor one female, I neglect another. The situation is impossible."

"You suggest you must give wholly to one or the other. You have the capacity within yourself to address and tend to more than a single individual at a time. The situation is not impossible; your standards for performance are."

"My standard for performance has always been the pursuit of the ideal."

"The ideal? Spock. Perfection is only an aspiration, not a scientific instrument which one measures oneself against only to find oneself forever wanting. You are too hard on yourself," Sybok said, his face full of compassion. "The ideal is a goal we can never fully achieve, because our natures are flawed and imperfect. We must allow ourselves, on occasion, the luxury of admitting our limitations, even if it's only to ourselves. Further, nothing is entirely right or wrong. Every light casts a shadow, and every shadow springs forth from a light. Things aren't wholly black or white; there are always areas of gray, sometimes infinitesimal but always there. It's alright, Spock, to sometimes live and act in that gray space."

"Gray areas are imprecise. Gray areas are variable. Gray areas are unacceptable," Spock said.

"Your intransigence is what's unacceptable. Is your Lieutenant Uhura so stubborn? Or does she allow herself to live moment to moment, embracing the black, the white and the gray in her life equally and openly?"

"She is Human. Humans are more adaptable to -- "

"Are you suggesting a Human can achieve what a Vulcan cannot?"

"I am saying Human nature allows for more relational flexibility than does being a Vulcan."

"Then your Uhura should be able to understand your curiosity about the plak-tau females, and accommodate your desire to pursue their identities, without being angry with you or jealous of them."

"Perhaps," Spock capitulated quietly. "How will she respond if these other females are now ripe with the children of my blood, children for whom I did not plan and never asked to father?"

"Ah, yes," Sybok said. "The children of the Prerogative are an issue on their own, aren't they?"

"They are to be the Taluhk Tan(18), gifts to our new world, but... How can I care for them, be a father to them, when they arose from such humiliation? And yet, how can I reject them? The circumstances of their conception were not their fault... My other self told me to _do what feels right_... What do I do when nothing feels right? When everything feels like a struggle, a trap, a pit? I am being pulled in different directions, like a man strung up between horses, Sybok, each one dragging me toward an opposite end. I feel as though I am being ripped apart..." Spock put a hand to his face, in part to soothe his aching head and, in part to hide the raw emotion that sought to fill his features. Unshed tears began to burn in his eyes.

Sybok rose and stepped around the table. He wrapped his arms around Spock's shoulders and held him tightly, then put his mouth to the top of Spock's head and spoke into his hair. "If it is truly too much for you, Little Brother, share your pain with me," he said, his voice full of empathy and heart. "Release it, and gain strength from the sharing."(19)

For a moment, Spock leaned against Sybok, holding his half-brother's arms against his body with both hands for support. After that moment was spent, however, Spock drew in a deep breath, moderated his feelings, and shrugged off Sybok's embrace. "Do not," he said in a voice low and ragged.

Sybok squatted down next to Spock's chair so he could meet Spock's eyes, and said with sincerity, "I can take your pain from you, Little Brother; all the wicked memories, all the debilitating sensations, all of your doubts and concerns. I can purge you of these things, and you need not be afflicted by them again."

"My mind will be made clear -- "

"The chaos would end."

Spock closed his eyes. "No, Sybok."

"Why not? Why torture yourself, Little Brother? Why live this way? Why not let me help you?"

"Because," Spock said, opening his eyes, looking at his half-brother, "I wish... to remain a camel."

Sybok blinked. "What?" he asked, his face displaying vivid puzzlement.

"Something Dr. Surrey said," Spock explained, regaining his composure.

"Your head-doctor encouraged you to be a dromedary? Sounds like a novel approach," Sybok said, his smile returning.

"He is a most intriguing individual."

"High praise, coming from you. You usually find doctors tedious."

Spock raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

The door chime pinged, and Sybok rose to his feet. "It is Sa'aat," he said.

"Is clairvoyance now part of your heretical repertoire?" Spock asked. He meant it in jest and Sybok took it as such.

Sybok put a hand to his forehead, closed his eyes, and pretended to "read" the person who had activated the chime. "He is a tall man… rather lethal-looking... He has the most unprofessional interest in you, and... He loathes strawberries," Sybok said. He grinned and dropped his hand. "You know, Sa'aat will not acknowledge me. He will shun me as the others do."

"Nevertheless, you will be civil to him," Spock said, walking to the door.

"I'm always civil, Little Brother," Sybok replied, bowing dramatically for emphasis.

"Behave yourself."

The door opened revealing Sa'aat on the other side.

*****

Nyota and Nurse Chapel were in Exam Room 4 sitting on the padded examination table. They had gone into the room to have some privacy for a few minutes.

"You should have seen him, Christine... He was so anguished over how I looked when we met in the corridor that I wanted to kick myself for not sprucing up a bit or putting on a better mask before he saw me. He has enough to worry about; I don't want him to have to worry about me, too."

Christine handed Nyota a small, slim phial filled with pale blue liquid. "Drink it in one gulp; otherwise it leaves a really weird taste in your mouth -- like raw snails or something."

"Ech!" Nyota accepted the phial, not sure she actually wanted to down its contents.

"It's the best thing for that melted-brain syndrome you've got going; trust me," Christine prompted.

Nyota tipped her head back and poured the aperitif into her mouth. She swallowed as quickly as she could, squeezing her eyes shut as the alcohol burned its way down her gullet. "I'm sort of glad we're sleeping separately tonight," she croaked over the smoldering sensation in her throat. "As much as I miss him, I don't want him to be up all night feeling he has to cater to me or fuss over me." She handed the phial back to Christine. "That stuff's awful."

"Give it a minute. You'll really get to like it."

"Are you a drug pusher, a bar tender, or a nurse?" Nyota asked with a half-smile.

"A little bit of everything," Christine admitted with a grin. "Actually, I was a bartender when I was at the Academy. I stupidly tried to pay for my education on my own, and got the job as soon as I got to San Francisco. After about three semesters, though, I relented and got some scholarships and grants instead."

"Where did you tend bar?"

"_Hijacks_, off of Doyle and Lyon, right near the old Exploritorium(20)."

"I know that place! It's such a dive. I loved it!" Nyota pitched forward a little bit on the exam table as the aperitif started to work its chemical magic. "Whoa."

Christine steadied her. "That's just the first wave. It gets better."

"So, you keep saying…" Nyota's face screwed up into a tight scowl. "You know, Christine," she said, "when I saw those women lined up on the projection screen I wanted to scream. I mean, I know they were doing their duty for their race and all that, but still... It takes a certain, unhealthy mindset to jump a man who's out of his mind, and have sex with him..."

"Didn't you tell me they were under T'Pau's spell, or something?"

"Some kind of mind-thrall, yes, but... When they marched to that surgical arena, I don't think they were under it yet. They knew what they were heading for; they knew what kind of condition Spock was going to be in. What did they think they were dressed for, in those skimpy shifts, a lecture on thermodynamics? As our captain is so fond of saying: _bullshit_."

"Ooo, foul language. The Spleneth is starting to kick in now. You'll get really gabby next."

Nyota didn't seem to hear her, and continued, "Not that I wouldn't want to have Spock's babies myself, mind you. I would. I do. Sometimes I ache for it. Sometimes when I'm with him, my uterus practically reaches out of my body toward him. But I don't want to push him or make him feel obligated. No babies until we're both ready..."

"You've talked about having kids?"

"Yeah. Sort of. Indirectly. Sometimes. I want about a million of 'em, but Vulcans don't go for big families. Well, at least they didn't before the edict was enacted. Before, it was considered vulgar to have a lot of kids. Two children were sometimes tolerated, but more than that… _Pifft!_ Unheard of. Then the edict was passed, and males were compelled to take on a lot of females, and now New Vulcan is going to be up to its armpits in kids... And now there are all these women who might be walking around with Spock's babies in their bellies, and… How I deal with that? How does he deal with that?"

"We don't even know if any of them are pregnant yet, do we?" Christine reminded her.

"No, but..."

"And even when everyone's fertile, it doesn't always _'take'_ the first time. He only had sex with them once."

"That's not what all you doctors and nurses told us in our 'Sexual Guidance' course at the Academy. And that plak-tau drug might have cinched things... Do we even know what was in that crap? ...Here we are, being careful; me getting my shots every month so there aren't any surprises... and then that bitch, T'Pau, comes along and sics her she-zombies on Spock, and everything gets loused up... And poor Spock. My intellectually dazzling, endearing, beautiful, chivalrous Spock. He's trying to do the right thing by everyone, but he doesn't even know who everyone is, or what the right thing would be. He doesn't even know the half of it. He's going to be _soooo_ ruined when we tell him what happened. How are we going to tell him, Christine?"

"We'll... be honest with him."

"He's going to feel as though we're ganging up on him if there's another big conference meeting... he'll be _soooo_ embarrassed... We have to make sure he's got an _'out'_, some way to leave the room or be private for a while after he's told; otherwise... otherwise..." Nyota rocked on the exam table, and blinked slowly several times. "Wow!" she said, and a grin spread slowly across her face.

"Is the euphoria kicking in now?" Christine asked with a smile.

"God, yeah -- " Nyota chuckled. "Whoa-oh-oh, this is great!"

"Okay, come with me." Christine helped Nyota off the exam table. "We've got to get you to your quarters. Enjoy this part while you can. The next phase is deep sleep."

Christine took Nyota's wrist and led her from the Medical Bay toward her quarters.

*****

In Spock's quarters, Sa'aat refrained from acknowledging Sybok's existence, just a Sybok said he would. Spock did nothing to rebuke his teacher, however. Vulcan society considered Sybok an outcast; shunning him was an acceptable response from any Vulcan who encountered him, and no complaint could be broached in good manners. Still, Spock was somewhat irked when Sa'aat sat in the chair Sybok stood behind, quietly waiting for Spock to join him at the table. Sybok shrugged, relenting, and took the third chair for himself, sitting between Spock and Sa'aat.

When it came time to pour the tea, Sa'aat did the honors, serving Spock first, then filling Sybok's cup before filling his own. He set the pot back down, the handle facing Spock; an appropriate gesture of veneration to the host. Throughout the light meal there were some pleasantries exchanged, to which Sybok made little quips meant to annoy Sa'aat, and which Sa'aat ignored with his normal icy calm. Occasionally, Sa'aat looked toward Sybok's chair but refused to engage him conversation. At one point, however, he set a strawberry on Sybok's plate, and said to Spock, "-- For unexpected company."

"That was gracious," Spock replied.

"Gracious? Khracoi'a t'nash-veh(21)," Sybok mumbled. When Spock gave him a pointed look, Sybok raised his hands in surrender. "My mouth, I know. Forgive me, Little Brother."

Later Spock escorted them on a short tour of the ship. Sa'aat had seen it most of it before, but it was all new to Sybok and he walked through the _Enterprise_ with his eyes wide, grinning and remarking about how "wonderful!" this was or how "unexpected" something else was. Spock made a point of stopping at the Horticultural Department.

After the destruction of Vulcan, he had taken the seeds from several Vulcan fruits stored in the ship's galley and working with on-ship botanists started a small garden of trees native to his homeworld. They were still tiny, struggling things lining a wall in the back of the department's main laboratory, but he was proud of them. Gravity belts simulating Vulcan's increased gravimetric pull encircle the pots, and lights provided the plants with both the brilliance and heat they required. It wasn't Vulcan, but it was as close an approximation as Spock could devise. The hardiest was a sash-savas(22), a rugged specimen that looked like a cross between a cactus and a dwarf orange tree. It was too young to bear fruit, but it was currently in blossom. Long, barbed thorns protected the large flowers, which were vivid yellow at the tips and pale green in center, and had a sharp, bright smell that filled the room. On Vulcan, the scent traveled for miles, drawing mathras and staroks (23) to facilitate pollination. On the _Enterprise_, Spock explained, he did all of the pollination by hand, using long cotton swabs to transfer the pollen from one flower to the next. The activity, he admitted, allowed him extra time for meditation and introspection and was therefore something of a curative for him.

"You are becoming quite the pomologist, Spock," Sa'aat said. "These are very impressive."

"Thank you. It is my hope to be able to present them to New Vulcan when they are mature," Spock said.

Sa'aat gave him a sideway glance. "You see yourself returning there?"

"I hope to... someday. Yes," Spock said, however, his tone made Sa'aat question whether Spock was trying to convince himself.

"Perhaps your someday will be sooner than you expect," Sa'aat said. Spock cocked his head questioningly. "Your father has been invited to return to negotiate for a seat on the new Council. I've heard that the current Ministers are holding several seats open; one for the Fonn Vuhlkansu, one for the Shakhu(24), and one for the Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas(25), thus far. Other Sects are also vying for a voice, so more seats may be added in the near future."

"Maybe the V'tosh Ka'tur should apply," Sybok said in jest, but Spock took him seriously.

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Spock said.

"I thought you might like that," Sa'aat said. "And to that end, Sarek is expected to arrive on the _Enterprise_ shortly. It is my understanding he will stay and travel with you until the Ministers are ready to hear him."

"It is interesting my father did not inform me of this," Spock said, and some unintentional pique showed itself in his voice.

"Since I arrived first, the task to inform you was given to me. It would have been redundant for both Sarek and I to supply you with the same information."

Spock took a few steps away from Sa'aat, and then turned back to him, his posture projecting an unspoken challenge. "It seems curious that my father's unscheduled arrival comes so closely on the heels of your meeting in Medical Conference Room One," he said.

When Sa'aat did not immediately answer, Sybok stepped in close to Spock and said, "He's hiding something, Little Brother."

"You were in attendance, were you not?" Spock asked Sa'aat.

"Yes. I participated in a meeting earlier this day," Sa'aat admitted. "I was unaware you were privy to it."

"I am the First Officer of this vessel, Sa'aat," Spock reminded him. "When the Captain, Chief Medical Officer, Chief Psychiatric Officer, Head Nurse, and Chief Communications Officer all vanish at the same time, it is my duty to ascertain their whereabouts."

Sa'aat took a countering but not quite defensive physical stance, and said, "Very well. What would you have me say in response to that, Spock?"

"Tell me the subject of the meeting," Spock said.

"It was about you and your recent... behavior."

"Why was I not invited to attend?"

"Since I did not summon the meeting, I cannot speak directly to the reasons why you -- "

"Do not feign ignorance, Sa'aat," Spock interrupted bluntly.

"I feign nothing. Should you require a factual response to your query, you must seek out those who initiated the conference," Sa'aat answered coolly.

"What decisions were made as a result of the meeting?" Spock asked.

"We came to no definitive conclusions. The end result seemed to be that we would wait for your father's arrival before proceeding further, and at that time initiate a subsequent meeting to which you would be compelled to attend."

Spock clenched his fists, his features rigid with the force it took to control the anger welling up inside of him.

Sybok said, "This is why I let my feelings out, Little Brother. The control is debilitating. It wreaks havoc on your body and -- "

"I will not let loose my anger," Spock said between tight teeth. "I control my emotions; they do not control me." He turned away from both Sybok and Sa'aat and retreated a few steps to another part of the room. After a few deep breaths, he turned back saying, "So, Father is coming... When will he arrive?" His voice constrained, calmer, less accusatory, but his fists were still tight.

"In approximately fifty-two hours," Sa'aat answered, his posture softening a bit in the face of Spock's attempt at moderation.

"Is it... Is it safe for him to return to New Vulcan?" Spock asked.

"As safe as it ever was for him," said Sa'aat. "But I will be with him."

"As his body guard -- "

"As his attendant and confidant."

"Is this your new line of employment, Sa'aat?"

"No. Simply a... junket, a diversion until other more profitable employment opportunities present themselves. But I am always at the disposal of the House of Sarek -- and his family." Sa'aat bowed slightly.

"I wonder if that includes me?" Sybok said.

Sa'aat ignored him.

Most of the hardness in Spock's features relaxed, his fists unclenched, and he looked at the floor for a moment. When his eyes returned to Sa'aat, he was more himself, composed and somewhat contrite. "My apologies," he said. "As was, no doubt, discussed at your meeting, I have not been entirely myself lately."

"Yes," Sa'aat said.

"Shall we continue with the tour, then?"

"That would be satisfactory," Sa'aat extended his hand, indicating that Spock should lead on.

*****

After Sa'aat and Sybok had left him to retire, Spock found it difficult to enter a restive state. He removed the dinner assemblage, and prepared his bed for sleep but did not get into it. After pacing for several minutes, he attempted some simple meditation, but found he could not quiet his mind. Playing the ka'athyra (26) also gained him nothing, so he set it aside, and left his quarters.

He stood before Dr. Surrey's office door and pressed the chime, but got no response. He pressed the chime again. Still no answer. "Computer," Spock said aloud. "Tell me the location of Dr. Andrew Surrey."

The ship's automated response system replied in its computerized female voice. "Dr. Surrey is located in the aft Observation Deck."

The aft Observation Deck, a large space with a vaulted ceiling located in the rear of ship along the upper portion of the Shuttle Bay, was often used to host gatherings for dignitaries, celebrations, ceremonies, seminars and other meetings. One could look out of the large portal windows on one side of the room and see the Shuttle Bay; and from the other side, one could look out and see the star field outside the ship. When Spock entered the Observation Deck, Jagusch-McGillis dominated the star field windows, shining like an emerald in the black velvet of space.

Dr. Surrey sat in a chair on the star field side, engrossed a hardbound book, his head resting against his hand as he read.

"Pardon me," Spock said, and Dr. Surrey started at the unexpected voice, turned to Spock and chuckled.

"Good god, Mister Spock, you scared the bejeezuz out of me."

"It was not my intention to alarm you," Spock assured him.

Dr. Surrey smiled and nodded. "Okay. Good. What can I do for you?"

"I... am uncertain..."

"Uncertainty isn't necessarily a bad thing." Dr. Surrey closed his book, indicating a chair adjacent to his. "Come talk to me about it."

Spock walked to the chair, but remained standing. _He doesn't want to take a posture that may be construed as submissive or insecure_, Surrey understood. "What are you uncertain about, Mister Spock?" he prompted.

"I am aware a meeting took place earlier today between yourself, Dr. McCoy, Captain Kirk, Nurse Chapel, Lieutenant Uhura and Sa'aat."

_Well, we knew we couldn't keep it a secret from him for long._ "And this concerns you."

"Yes, as I was also made aware this meeting revolved around me -- and yet I was not a party to it."

"You feel like we're... going behind your back."

"Precisely."

"It wasn't our intention to cause you distress, Mister Spock. We met to... Please take a seat. Looking up at you is giving my neck a charley horse."

"The _'charley horse'_, as I understand the condition, is confined to the muscles of the legs or arms, is it not, Doctor," Spock stated.

_He's not accepting anything that sounds even vaguely like a diversion or a lie. He's feeling persecuted and cynical. _"That's quite correct. I misspoke. It's more like a crick... Please, sit," Dr. Surrey said again.

Reluctantly, Spock settled into the chair directly opposite the doctor. His posture was stiff and unyielding, his back parallel to the back of the chair, his hands on his thighs, closed but not into fists.

"We met today..." Dr. Surrey explained, "...to try to pull together as much information as we had on what might be causing your nightmares and hallucinations, and your recurring sleeplessness."

"You discussed my medical and psychological standing without my knowledge or permission."

"Well... at first blush it might appear that way. But, bear in mind, when you agreed to submit to a psych eval -- "

"When I was ordered to attend a psychological evaluation," Spock corrected firmly.

_Man, he's not giving an inch. _"Initially, it was an order, yes. But you requested another session with me, and in doing so you also signed a waiver allowing me access to your medical records and to any adjunctive information I might need to assist in your therapy. We have to rule out medical conditions that might be causing or impinging upon your mental state before we can address a detailed plan for therapy. I think I already discussed that with you, didn't I?"

"Briefly, yes," Spock conceded.

"Okay then... Now, Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel are both able to speak to your medical history and your current physical state, and Captain Kirk has the authority to hear that information because he's your commanding officer, and your mental state can have a direct effect on your ability to perform your duties as First Officer and Science Officer aboard the _Enterprise_. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Spock admitted quietly. Then he countered with, "And to the right of Lieutenant Uhura and Sa'aat to access my personal health information -- ?"

"Lieutenant Uhura witnessed your chemically induced plak-tau, and she also witnessed some of your nightmares, your sleep deprivation, and the hallucination. Therefore, her input was invaluable. I also asked her to attend because I felt, as she is -- as far as I understand -- your significant other, she was already privy to most, if not all, of what we discussed at the meeting. Since there was no discussion of your past medical history, and since I believed she already knew your current history, there was, in my view, no breach of client confidentiality. If I made a mistake in that regard, it is entirely my fault, and I will accept the consequences of my decision."

Spock was silent for several long seconds, and Dr. Surrey did not press him for a response. "And Sa'aat?" Spock asked simply.

"He had information on what happened to you during the chemically induced plak-tau on the medical tricorder he used when you were on New Vulcan, so, again... he wasn't being told anything he didn't already know."

"Why was I not bade to join the discussion?"

"The meeting was exploratory in nature. Its purpose wasn't to come to any consensus or to form any conclusions about your case, but rather to pool as much information as we could about your current difficulties so we could present it all to you, at a later date, alongside our recommendations."

"There is information which I could bring to the table which is of equal or greater value than that brought by anyone else in attendance," Spock stated.

"That's very true, Mister Spock," Dr. Surrey acknowledged. "Your personal input is the most valuable information we can use to determine your status; of that there is no doubt or argument... And, that's why we drew no conclusion from today's meeting except to get together at a subsequent meeting, when you could be present, to discuss what we know or suspect, and establish a treatment regime and support system for you. Our approach may have been clumsily executed, Mister Spock, but it was done with your best interest at heart."

"My best interest," Spock repeated. He set his jaw, and his features turned stony. "I do not require you, Doctor McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, or anyone else to articulate, in any way, on my behalf as concerns my own medical and psychological status. I am still quite capable of speaking for myself."

"Yes. You're right."

"Do not patronize me, Dr. Surrey," Spock said, his voice going heavy and dark. "It is offensive."

_Vulcans never admit to being offended; offense is brought on by emotion. And if he's admitting to an emotional response, I'm in deep shit._ "I wasn't patronizing you, Mister Spock. Honestly."

"You all treat me as though I am a fragile child."

_He's getting defensive. I need to diffuse this before he loses it. _"That was never our intention, Mister Spock. If our actions caused you to deduce that, then I sincerely apologize," Dr. Surrey said evenly. "For my own part, you have to bear in mind that I've never had a Vulcan as a patient before, so... I'm learning as we go along here, just as you are. I'm going to make mistakes, so... I'm going to need you to cut me some slack. Okay?"

Spock was silent, his eyes moving back and forth slightly as he processed his thoughts. He turned his head to one side, away from the doctor, and after a few more moments, his hands relaxed a bit. The palms flattened, and then rubbed his thighs slowly.

_Self-soothing. He's calming himself down. Good for him._

Spock took in a deep breath then let it out slowly, before returning his gaze to Dr. Surrey. "I do not want another meeting to take place as regards my medical or psychological status without my presence."

"I understand, and if it is within my power, I will accommodate you in that." Spock went quiet again, and after a few moments, Dr. Surrey interjected, "Could I make a suggestion -- ?"

Spock looked him in the eyes.

_I'll take that as a yes._ "In light of your current... difficulties... It might behoove you to assign to someone your medical power of attorney."(27)

Spock lifted his chin, defiant. "Are you suggesting yourself, Doctor?"

"No. No, no... As a matter of fact, it can't be me. It has to be somebody else; somebody you trust implicitly to make decisions for you as regards your physical and mental health should you ever become... incapacitated. It's just a safeguard, Mister Spock, so you can feel secure that your wishes will be followed no matter what."

Spock's chin dropped to its normal level again. "I will take your suggestion under advisement."

"Great. Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?"

"No," Spock said softly but not quite convincingly.

Dr. Surrey offered, "Would you... like to sit here with me for a while? I can read to you. I've been told by my former psychology students that my voice is a sure fire antidote for insomnia..."

"What are you reading?" Spock asked.

Dr. Surrey laughed. The Vulcan's inadvertent humor delighted him. He picked up his book again and read the title aloud, _"The Fundamental Concepts of Psychoanalysis as Regards Neurotic Personality Disorders in Klingons"_by Divok Mishtak_._"(28)

"Sounds fascinating," Spock said, settling back, more comfortably, into his chair.

* * *

(1) **Ozh'esta:** Vulcan finger-touching  
(2) **Ich:** a disease of tropical fish caused by a protozoan which manifests as small white nodules on the skin, fins and eyes of the fish. It's also called ichthyophthirius or ichthyophthirius disease.  
(3) **Spleneth Aperitif:** A cloying pale blue Andorian drink made from the spleneth root, with both alcoholic and medicinal qualities, that acts as a sort of mild sedative in small doses. It tastes like raw snails. Usually, when used as a sedative patient's go through a short of period of feeling very chatty, then euphoric, then sleepy. **Author's Note:** This is NOT Trek canon; I just made this up.  
(4)** I will be back: **This is a scene and a line of dialog straight from the 2009 movie "Star Trek".  
(5) **Crass Vernacular:** This is based loosely on Trek canon. Since Vulcans control their emotions, they do not, generally speaking, swear or otherwise use off-color language. According to the Star Trek Geekipedia site: _"Use of them in speech now does not fit with the logical lifestyle and control of emotions that Vulcans embrace. In the pre-Surak world, their usage was common, but today they are only used by those who do not follow Surak's teachings, outlaws, those undergoing a difficult pon farr, by the criminally insane, etc. Never use them in speech with most Vulcans or you may find yourself being subjected to a mental health evaluation! Because of their distaste, Vulcans may refer to this type of speech as 'Gutter Mode', if they speak of it at all."_ [stogeek(.)com/ wiki/ Vulcan_Language_Lesson_26]  
(6) **Sa-ka-ashausu:** The Vulcan term for a homosexual male.  
(7) **Nam-tor t'nash-veh fam**: from the Vulcan it translates as "I am not myself".  
(8) **Nemaiyo**: The Vulcan word for the phrase "thank you".  
(9) **Ha, k'diwa:** translated from the Vulcan it mean "yes, beloved".  
(10) **The Vulcan food**: "theris-masu" is an herbal tea, "kap" is a kind of Vulcan bread, "yarmok" is a salad made of sharply flavored Vulcan vegetables, and "pla-savas" is a very sweet blue-black fruit also known simply as "blue-fruit". **Author's Note:** The sparkling jade-water and the long-fork utensils were my own inventions. I envisioned this little spread like a midnight snack for the Vulcans.  
(11) **Bhut Jolokia pepper:** a pepper commonly recognized as the hottest chili pepper on Earth, even hotter than the Red Savina Habanero pepper. On the Scoville scale it rates between 855,000–1,050,000.  
(12) **Handling food:** This is from Trek canon (specifically the "Broken Bow" episode of _Enterprise_) which states that Vulcans do not touch their food with their hands. Handling food with ones hands at a meal is considered unsanitary and animal-like.  
(13) **Life spans:** this is based on the premise in Trek canon that Humans live to be about 85 to 100 years old, and Vulcans live to be about 250-275 years old.  
(14) **V'tosh ka'tur:** "Vulcans without logic", of the Vahklas Sect, Vulcans who openly embrace their emotional impulses.  
(15) **Reasoning:** In the previous story, "The Ek'tevan Prerogative", Sarek and Sa'aat went along with the edict for their own reasons: Sarek didn't want to rock the boat until he had his own contingencies in line and could overthrow the existing government -- which didn't happen, because then T'Pau pulled his son into the mix; and Sa'aat went through with it in order to stay close to Semuk, AND because he thought that he'd never have the chance to reproduce (since he's gay) and found the idea of fathering children intriguing.  
(16) **Vrekasht**: The Vulcan word for "outcast".  
(17) **Jellyfish:** This was the colloquial name for the ship commissioned by the Vulcan Science Academy, in the 2009 movie **"Star Trek"**, which was first flown by Spock Prime and then by Spock. Spock put the Jellyfish on a collision course with the Romulan ship, _Narada_, in order to destroy the Narada when it attacked the planet Earth.  
(18) **Taluhk Tan**: Literally translated from the Vulcan language, it means "precious gift".  
(19) This is indicative of the lines Sybok had in the film _**"Star Trek: The Final Frontier"**_. He used his mental acuity to locate the secret pain in others, pull it from them, and then "brain wash" them into accepting him as a leader.  
(20) **The Exploritorium**: a real museum in San Francisco full of hundreds of hands-on exhibits that mix science and art. It was founded in 1969 by Dr. Frank Oppenheimer and was a forerunner in the movement that promoted museums as informal centers of education. If you're ever in San Francisco, the Exploritorium is located at 3601 Lyon Street, San Francisco, CA - (415) 561-0360 . **Author's Note:** I picked a spot in San Francisco, of course, because that's where the main campus of Star Fleet Academy was located in Star Trek, around the Presidio, and I figured if Christine was working her way through school, she'd have to be somewhere close to the Academy (yet still off-campus).  
(21) **Khracoi'a t'nash-veh:** it translates from the Vulcan as "my damn buttock". Krha~ or khr~ appear before words in the Vulcan language when the words are used as invectives. Like all profanity, this kind of language is not generally used by Vulcans , and is considered crass and loutish.  
(22) **Sash-savas:** a kind of oblong-shaped citrus fruit native to Vulcan; it has a very strong flavor, and is sometimes called an "acid fruit" because of its high concentrations of citric and ascorbic acid.  
(23) **Mathras, and Staroks:** These are all the names of creatures native to Vulcan. The mathras are butterflies, and staroks are bats.  
(24) **Shakhu:** Vulcan term for "The Elderly".  
(25) **Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas:** translated from the Vulcan it means the "followers of the holy guardian spirits", this is a Sect comprised mostly of Vulcan mystics and their apprentices, also called simply "The Vai Giddas". **Author's Note:** I made this sect up; it's NOT part of Trek canon.  
(26) **Ka'athyra:** The name for the Vulcan lute or lyre. According to the Memory Alpha Site: "[the lyre is a] twelve-stringed instrument, that was tuned on a diatonic scale" (a musical scale with 7 notes). According to Trek canon, Spock is very proficient in this instrument.  
(27) **Medical Power of Attorney:** This was actually suggested by FanFicton member _**"Stage Manager"**_; thank you! The medical power of attorney (also called an MPOA) is a legal document that designates a certain individual as your "agent" or "proxy" and allows that person to make medical decisions for you when you are unable to do so yourself. This is not the same POA as one that allows someone else to incur or pay for medical debts on your behalf.  
(28)_**The Fundamental Concepts of Psychoanalysis as Regards Neurotic Personality Disorders in Klingons** _by Divok Mishtak. I just totally made this up; there is no such book -- as far as I know.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_With thanks to my fanfic betas "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8:**

Spock, dressed in his standard Science Blues, arrived outside Nyota's quarters at precisely oh-eight-thirty and pressed the door chime. Nyota, dressed in the pants variation the Operations Red uniform instead of a short skirt, and wearing a broad headband to control her loose hair, answered immediately. "You are wonderfully punctual," she said, tilting her head and smiling brightly at him.

"And you are feeling much improved," Spock replied.

"Yes. Very. Thank you." The Spleneth Aperitif had been exactly the medicine she required, and she felt blissful, refreshed and focused, powerful and uplifted. She hoped to transmit some of that energy to Spock; giving him a vicarious boost through her attention and touch. She shouldered her small carry-purse, wrapped her arms around Spock's arm and maneuvered him into the corridor. "How are you today?" she asked as they headed toward the main Transporter Room. "Did you have a nice evening with Sa'aat?"

"_'Nice'_ is, most likely, not the most appropriate word," Spock admitted as they entered a turbolift together. Nyota laughed, a rich, hardy laugh, as the doors shut.

~*~*~*~

Spock and Nyota materialized on the Starbase's main receiving platform, and stepped off carefully before looking around them. Thick vegetation, green on top of green, covered the young and still-developing planet, Jagusch-McGillis. There was little variance between the climate zones; bayous gave way to rain forests, rain forests gave way to riparian forests, which in turn gave way to coniferous forests. To protect this burgeoning environment, expansive filtering bio-domes that stood out on the planet's surface like silvery blisters surrounded by pale green areolas of manicured lawn covered the Starbase and settlements. Each of the three to five mile wide domes allowed sunlight, fresh air and fresh water into the covered areas, while refining and cleansing any exiting vapors or fluids so as not to contaminate the exterior landscape. Long transit tunnels and grey stone paths connected the domes. Beyond the paths were a wild tangle of enormous trees, vines and exotic flowers harboring the insects, birds, reptiles, and small mammals exclusive to the planetoid; outside the domes, the air was filled with the sounds of howling, buzzing and singing things.

Inside the main dome, the Starbase bustled with different languages, the droning hum of small craft and scooters and the whirling fizzle of transporter beams. Spacecraft larger than four-point-five meters in length were not allowed on the surface, so most personnel and products were beamed in through the base's transporter system. A hexagonal-shaped promenade surrounded a congested cluster of buildings standing between six and twelve stories high that held the main Starbase offices, conference centers, medical facility, schools, living quarters, travel agency and food court. Transit tunnels leading to the other domes began at each angle of the promenade. Floating computerized multilingual signage at the intersections described the various destinations available through the tunnels. Nyota was almost giddy with delight. This was a xenolinguist's paradise. The noise was somewhat bothersome but not unbearable to Spock's sensitive ears, so he made no complaint. He leaned in to speak to over the din. "What will be our first objective?"

"Let's find a sign-station and pick something," Nyota suggested. Spock nodded, taking her hand. She smiled inwardly and outwardly. She loved when he "claimed" her this way, announcing to everyone who saw them they were a couple. He didn't make or take the gesture lightly. She gave Spock's hand a little squeeze as they headed for the nearest signboard.

Once there, Nyota lifted her hands over Spock's eyes. "Just point to something," she prompted.

"This is not an expedient or advisable way for committing oneself to a destination," Spock said blindly to the air.

"I know, but it's the fun way. So choose something."

Spock pointed at the floating board, and Nyota dropped her hands so he could see what he had chosen: Clothing District, Tunnel 5. He was expressionless.

"If that's going to be boring for you, we can choose something else," Nyota said.

"No," he said. "If selecting a random destination was the point of this exercise, then we have achieved our goal." He had told himself last night, as he sat in the Observation Deck with the sleeping, snoring Dr. Surrey, he would dedicate this day to Nyota. Whatever she wanted, no matter what it was, if it was within his power, he would give it to her: time, attention, affection, tokens, favors, sex... It would be his gift to her, while he still had the capacity to give her everything he could. Before Dr. Surrey had mentioned the medical power of attorney, it had not occurred to Spock, on a conscious level, that his current psychiatric disposition could deteriorate to a point where he would be incapable of cognitive thought or self-directed action. He now understood he had to take such a possibility seriously. He had gone to the Medical Bay that morning, and with Nurse Chapel as his witness, named Nyota his medical proxy -- although she was not yet aware of it.

"Okay," Nyota said. "Which way to Tunnel Five?"

"East," Spock said.

"Ooookay. Which way is east?"

Spock gestured in the proper direction. As they began walking, he suggested, "When we have some time, I will teach you svi'besau (1) which allows one to more easily orient oneself in an unfamiliar landscape."

"Wouldn't it just be easier to buy me a compass?" Nyota joked, and then giggled at Spock's deadpan response.

They opted to requisition a small solar-electric shuttle-car. They could have easily walked the tunnels, which were between one-point-seven and five-point-two miles long, but Nyota reminded Spock that by the end of the day, she would be fatigued, and they might have purchases to bring back. The three-wheeled convertible -- with twin seats in the front, a small cargo well in the rear and a bright red identification badge on the side reading "Li'l Otto" -- could race through the tunnels at fifteen miles per hour. Of course, since the tunnels were congested with pedestrians and cart-peddlers more often than not, one would be fortunate to achieve and maintain a speed of four to five miles per hour for any distance.

When Spock assumed the driver's seat without asking, Nyota put her hands on her hips. "What's this? You don't think I can drive?" she asked.

"Rank does have its privileges, Lieutenant," he reminded her.

"Oh, pulling that on me, are you?"

"I am the more qualified pilot," Spock said. "And, you do not yet have a compass."

"All right, you win." Nyota smiled and walked to the passenger side. "Permission to come aboard, sir?"

"Permission granted," Spock said with a slight bow of his head. Nyota climbed into the passenger seat. As he drove down Tunnel 5 toward the Clothing District, she placed a hand on his thigh and attempted to project through the contact nothing but weightlessness and happy thoughts.

~*~*~*~

"Couldn't get enough of me, huh?" Nurse Chapel asked Sa'aat jokingly as he entered the Medical Bay; inwardly she lamented that the Vulcans she found the most attractive were all either spoken for, disinterested, or gay.

Sa'aat gave her a level stare before saying, "I am looking for Dr. McCoy or Dr. Surrey."

"Dr. McCoy and Dr. Surrey are on shore leave. Is there something I can help you with?"

"If I wish to report an anomaly, may I make such a report to you?"

"It depends on the nature of the anomaly. If it's a medical anomaly, yes. If it's something like, say, a freak transmission or a peculiar nebular formation, then, no."

"One would assume that if I come into the Medical Bay, I would wish to report a medical anomaly."

"Yeah, you'd think so, wouldn't you," Christine said, needling him further.

Sa'aat dropped his chin to his chest and, looking at her from under upswept eyebrows, said in a low voice, "I do not understand how Spock tolerates this."

"Tolerates what, sweetie?"

"The ill-defined roles, the incessant flippancy, the gross familiarity, the frittering away of time and energy..."

"Hang around us Humans long enough and you'll get used to it. You might even find it enjoyable."

Sa'aat gave her another long look, and then turned to leave.

"Wait, truce…" Christine relented and Sa'aat turned to face her again. "What medical anomaly did you want to report?" she asked in a professional tone.

~*~*~*~

There was more to the Clothing District than its name implied. There were clothing stores, tailors and seamstress shops specializing in fashions from all over the galaxy -- Bajoran, Trill, Betazoid, Nausicaan, Betelgeusian, Pakled, Capellan, Elasian, Kelvan, Orion, Malurian, the list went on -- but the district also included weavers, cloth merchants, hatters and milliners, cobblers, leather-smiths, feather-workers, furriers, jewelers and even a couple metallurgists. Nyota wasn't much of a clotheshorse, but she enjoyed the different apparel as examples of cultural art. Spock viewed them in much the same way. On Vulcan, modes of dress, even the type of fabrics, were often particular to rank, status, class or ceremony. Even the attire he had worn to petition the Vulcan Science Academy for admission -- simple traveling pants, soft boots, handmade shirt and heavy sweater made of coarse plant fibers -- was ceremonial, announcing that he was merely a contrite, unadorned aspirant, while allowing the Ministers to shine in their finery. In Vulcan tradition, mystics wore moiré and brocade, females wore metallic cloth and broad-silk, and males wore chapped-cloth and leather.(2) Coming from such a stratified environment to Starfleet, where everyone dressed similarly, had taken him weeks to get used to. He had come to appreciate the simplicity of uniforms, however, and their ability to "equalize" people at a glance.

While Nyota browsed among the bolts of fabric at an open-air shop listening to the conversations around her, Spock watched an indigo-skinned Crikian(3) seamstress add fine embroidery to a handmade blouse. The Crikian's long, delicate eight-fingered hands, holding elongated needles, moved over the fabric like large, ethereal, dark blue spiders. When she came to a pause in her work, she looked up at Spock and hissed at him in the liquid tones native to her species, "You wisssssh to buy?"

"No," Spock said, presenting his side and shoulder to the alien so as not to impose or offend. "But I do have a query."

"Yesssss?"

"May one engage an artisan such as yourself for a personal project?"

"A commissssion?"

"Yes."

"For what purpossssse?"

"A panel of Vulcan calligraphy."

"Vulcan... Rare thessssse daysssss," the seamstress said. She bowed her head on her willowy neck, and closed her large eyes for a moment, "It would honor me."

Spock took his communicator from its notch on his waistband. "If I may transmit the specifics to you?"

The Crikian set her work aside, and stepped, on four legs, to the adjacent counter where a small computer station was set up for transmitting communiqués, funds, and other digital data. She activated it, and then instructed Spock on how to transmit the information and payment for his project to her.

From an aisle away, Nyota watched their interaction. Spock seemed much better today, alert, attentive, engaged. He wasn't happy, he wasn't content, but he was more himself, more accepting, more flexible than he had been in weeks. However, something about his better mood nagged her, reminding her of an Academy classmate who had committed suicide several years ago. He had been happy and relaxed -- after months of being morose and withdrawn. Everyone had thought he was recovering. Nyota later learned it wasn't unusual for suicidal people to display an air of liberation once they made the choice to end their existence; it was as if the decision itself was a relief for them. Vulcans didn't commit suicide, it went against their very natures, but still.... Nyota mentally kicked herself for being so morbid. Spock was enjoying the day for once and she reacted by jumping to unwarranted conclusions and trying to paint him as self-destructive. She pushed the thoughts from her mind with an inward shudder; she didn't want him "reading" things like that from her.

Unable to hear what they were saying, Nyota watched the Crikian and Spock, as the seamstress touched his forearm lightly with a spidery finger then vanish under a counter, only to reappear a few seconds later with a large bolt of cloth in her multiple arms. Spock slowly skimmed his fingertips over the fabric. The material was a heavy, irregular weave; peacock blue thread interspersed with flecks and daubs of gold, copper, bright orange and port-brown. Even from where she stood Nyota could identify it as Vulcan.

"You wisssssh to purchassssse?" the Crikian asked Spock softly. He clutched the fabric hard enough that the ridges in the cloth cut impression into the skin of his hand. Such a purchase made no logical sense. He would never use it; he had no tailoring skills. Still, it was a piece of his homeworld, sent to a safe place before everything else was destroyed, so it had some historical and cultural value, he thought -- even as he refused to acknowledge the sentimental value it also held for him. His mother had worn a dress made from the same fabric on the day she had died; the day he had lost her; not fast enough to catch her hand before she plummeted out of his line of sight, out of his life. Spock closed his eyes, unconsciously trying to put a lid on the all-consuming tide of emotions welling up inside of him.

"Yes," Spock answered, opening his eyes, composed once more. "Thank you. Can you have it delivered to the _Enterprise _today? I believe Ensign Herich is the current duty-officer in Receiving. Tell him to have it sent to my quarters upon arrival."

The Crikian nodded once; pleased by both the sale and the fact her customer hadn't bothered to haggle. She was not a cheat, but anything from Vulcan brought a high price these days. She was lucky such an incomparable buyer had found his way to her shop: a buyer with credits to spare in his account. The gods were generous. She would have to set aside a good portion of her meal to them that evening. She relegated the Vulcan bolt over to the _'sold/ship'_ bin under the counter and looked up to see Nyota now standing next to Spock. "Found sssssomething?" she asked, even though she could see that Nyota held a bolt of yellow Elasian silk.

"Four yards, please," Nyota said, handing over the fabric.

~*~*~*~

In another dome, Kirk, Scotty and McCoy crowded around a small table in the center of the saloon at the far end of the Patinkin Café. Despite the early hour, the place was full and multilingual conversations, crude jokes, and bad singing abounded. The café didn't play music, not wanting to insult one race by playing the music of another. So, occasionally a patron would stand at his or her table, or walk around the saloon singing boisterously if often not quite on key. "Good god, it sounds like someone vacuuming cats," McCoy complained about the latest vocal excursion.

"You try hitting the high notes when you're doused with Saurian Brandy," Kirk said grinning, his face crinkling around twinkling blue eyes. After all his shipboard responsibilities, he was grateful for the moments he could just be "Jim" again, sharing a drink with friends, and maybe trolling for a little feminine nibble. Unfortunately, however, there weren't many female saloon patrons at the moment. Truth be told, it was hard to distinguish between some of the males and females in the bar. Although it was a bright morning outside, the interior of the bar was as dark as dusk. And, yes, it was early for drinks, but, Jim convinced himself, it was four o'clock somewhere, on some planet... Scotty was already on his second Cobalt-Derivian Cocktail, but the effects of the first one hadn't hit him yet. Kirk and McCoy had started more conservatively with their drinks: beer for Kirk and bourbon for the doctor. "Pace yourself, Scotty," Kirk warned with a chuckle. "I may not be around to carry you home."

"That's what transporters are for, Captain," Scotty said winking, a grin working across his face. "To more friends, and less need of them,"(4) he toasted before taking another swallow.

The captain and doctor raised their glasses and laughed.

A older Human woman seated in a booth on the far wall across from the bar then caught Kirk's eye. There were two other people in her booth but Kirk couldn't tell what gender they were -- or what species, for that matter, because their heads were on the table. The woman's dark hair was coiffed in a wave that went from one side of her head to the other, finishing in a pendulous ringlet that hung as if it was caught in stasis, suspended in the air. She was dressed in a short, sleeveless shift that ended mid-thigh. Her legs were long, and she had kicked off her shoes, and her painted toenails gleamed. Kirk raised his glass again, nodding at her. Her slow, acknowledging smile was like smoke curling across her lips.

McCoy leaned in to the captain and said bluntly, "Y'know, one of these days, Jim, you're going to bring home something I can't cure."

"Nonsense, Bones," Kirk stood and clapped McCoy on the shoulder. "You can cure anything." He walked over to the woman, carrying his beer with him.

"Unbelievable," McCoy muttered. "The breakfast crowd hasn't even left the building and he's already got a date."

There was a sudden bang against the table, and startled, McCoy's caught his glass one-handed before its contents spilled. Scotty lay face-down on the tabletop, unconscious. The second Cobalt-Derivian Cocktail had felled him without warning. McCoy shook his head and reached out with his free hand to make sure Scotty was breathing and still had a pulse. He was and he did. "Wonderful," the doctor grumbled.

He detached his communicator and flipped it open. "McCoy to _Enterprise_."

"_Enterprise_, Johannes here."

"Well, good morning... Could you patch me into the Medical Bay, please? I'd like to talk to Nurse Chapel if she's available."

"One moment." There was a slight delay before Christine answered the com-link call.

"You've only been gone two hours, doctor," she said. "Now, stop checking in and get some relaxation. Don't make me come down there."

"It might actually be kind of nice if you did," McCoy's voice said over the link.

"Drinking already this morning, are we?" Christine joked in return.

"Just a bourbon, and I actually haven't been able to drink it y--."

"Crap!" Christine heard Kirk shout in the background over a sudden caterwauling that made it difficult for Christine to hear or understand him.

"Watch it! Damn it to hell," McCoy groused.

"Dr. McCoy," she said.

"You're not a woman! You're not even Human!" Kirk shouted over the din. There was a pause before crashing, scuffling sounds came from the doctor's end of the transmission. Glass breaking, a chair or two overturning. Then a bit of silence.

"McCoy? Dr. McCoy?" Christine said urgently. "What is going on there?"

"...Give me a minute..." came the response.

Then she heard the clicking-sounds of an alien language as Captain Kirk's voice exclaimed, "Eew! I think it touched my hair!"

"I told you to be careful, Jim," McCoy sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Then he came back on the line. "Cripes... Christine, are you still there?"

"Yes. What's going on?"

"A Xinxian in the bar tried to use a holo-lure(5) on our good captain..." He laughed. "Just wash it off, Jim; it's not permanent..."

"Gross!" said the captain.

McCoy snickered before saying in only a slightly more serious tone to Christine, "I called you because I need you to have someone lock onto Scotty's coordinates and beam him to Medical. He's got a belly full of Cobalt-Derivians, and I don't want his heart to stop beating while that stuff works its way through his system."

"Lord. How many did he have?"

"Just two..."

"I think I'm going to throw up," Kirk moaned in the background.

"Let that be a lesson to you," McCoy returned.

"Poor dears," Christine said, smiling. "Will I need to hold a bed for Captain Kirk, too?"

"Nah, he can handle it. It's just a little bug juice -- "

"... It feels like slime-devil slobber," Kirk complained.

Christine chuckled. "I'll have Chekov snag Mr. Scott, and I'll keep an eye on himself myself."

"Does that mean you won't be joining me planetside?" McCoy asked.

While others may have found McCoy's attempt at flirtation to be sexual harassment, Christine knew better and took his playfulness in the spirit in which it was intended. "Well, well, well, Doctor," she teased back.

"When I'm on shore leave it's 'Leonard', Miss Chapel."

"Well, _Leonard_, I don't think we're scheduled to be off at the same time during shore leave."

"I know the guy who set the schedule. Maybe I can get him to make an adjustment or two."

"You mean Commander Spock," Christine said. "Well, that may be a problem. I had Sa'aat in here a little while ago, and... there's something you need to know."

~*~*~*~

The transit tunnel to the Universal Bazaar dome, the next stop on their "winging-it tour" of Jagusch-McGillis, was jammed. A Rakhari(6) peddler's cart had overturned, snarling pedestrians and other carts around it. Spock, leaving Nyota in Li'l Otto, stepped through the crowd to offer what assistance he could; she loved his selfless chivalry. She could see the top of his head -- his smooth dark hair, the bangs, the tips of his exquisite ears – since he was taller than most people in the crowd were. He directed passersby around the toppled cart, and then he and two Tossuns (7) worked to set it upright again. There had been a lengthy discussion before the Tossuns did anything; it wasn't in their nature to get involved in other people's problems, usually only acting if it was in their best interest. Spock, ever the diplomat's son, must have been able to convince them that getting the cart moved would serve them in some fashion.

While she waited, Nyota listened to conversations in more than a dozen different languages and several sub-dialects. Isolating and translating them was good exercise for her; the sort of live interaction the ship's training computers couldn't begin to emulate. When she heard something unfamiliar, she would focus on it, listening for audible cues that might help her with a translation later. As she fixed upon a conversation between two Naussicans, her communicator beeped. She flipped the device open without looking at it. "Uhura here."

"Hey, Uhura." Dr. Surrey's voice answered.

"What's up, Doc?"

Dr. Surrey chuckled in response. "Bugs Bunny, circa 1940!"(8)

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. Trivia. My brain is full of it."

"What can I do for you, Doc?"

"I need to ask a favor -- "

"I'm on shore leave," Nyota reminded him in a sing-song voice, trying not to sound peeved.

"Yeah, I know... It's just... I need you to keep an eye on Spock."

Nyota's gut went cold and hard. "Why?" she asked flatly, surprised at how emotionless her voice sounded.

"Sa'aat told us that Spock might still be hallucinating."

"He's fine," Nyota countered bluntly.

"Yeah, well, he apparently spent last night serving a meal and talking to someone who wasn't there."

"Spock was with Sa'aat last night -- " Nyota contradicted, not wanting to believe him.

"Sa'aat and his half-brother, Sybok."

"I didn't know Spock had a half-brother," Nyota said. "Maybe Sa'aat is the one hallucinating." That was a churlish comment and she regretted it immediately, but still... the idea that an accusation from Sa'aat might ruin her day with Spock was galling.

"I didn't know Spock had a sibling either, until just now," Surrey replied. "Nevertheless, according to Sa'aat, Sybok exists... He just wasn't there last night when Spock was talking to him and entertaining him."

A small, strangled sound of anguish rose in Nyota's throat. She pushed her voice past it and said again in Spock's defense, "He is doing fine today."

"I'm just asking you to keep an eye on him."

"All right. I'll let you know if I notice anything. Uhura, out." Nyota snapped the communicator closed before the doctor could say anything further. She let it fall into her lap for a moment, feeling as though someone had punched her. She blinked hard to stop tears from forming, took a deep breath and lifted her head in defiance of the sorrow that threatened to spoil their day together.

She pressed for control as she clipped the communicator to her waistband. Looking up, she saw the crowd start to dissolve in the tunnel ahead. The Rakhari's cart was on its wheels again, and traffic slowly unsnarled. Spock was helping pick up the fallen merchandise and return it to the cart. Finished, he clapped the street dirt from his hands and headed back toward her through the dispersing crowd.

Now composed, Nyota smiled as he approached. "Are we good to go?" she asked in a chipper tone.

"In a few moments," Spock said, climbing into Li'l Otto's driver's seat and looked across at her. She raised a hand to the side of his face, using her thumb to remove an imaginary smudge of grime from his cheek; she just wanted to touch him, connect with him. His eyes filled with unspoken questions, but before she could answer him someone in car behind theirs honked at them, bellowing, "Come on! Move it!"

Spock looked behind him at the other driver and then back to Nyota. "Apparently, alacrity is required."

"Apparently," Nyota echoed with an understanding smile.

Spock looked ahead then stepped lightly on Li'l Otto's accelerator.

~*~*~*~

**ALL SALES ARE FINAL.**  
**BARGAINING IS PERMITTED.**

**ALL BEINGS SHOULD EXERCISE CAUTION WHEN PARTAKING**  
**VENDORS' FOOD, BEVERAGES, POULTICES AND POTIONS.**

**FIGHTING IS PROHIBITED.**

**STARFLEET IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR LOST OR STOLEN ITEMS,**  
**ILLNESSES, INJURIES OR UNWANTED PREGNANCIES.**

Despite the somewhat ominous warnings on the signage at the Universal Bazaar's entrance, everyone around seemed to be enjoying themselves -- as far as Nyota could tell. Small chatting, laughing crowds clustered around various performers, oohing and ahhing at the jugglers, dancers, magicians and acrobats. One shape-shifter amused people by emulating them, and nearby, a Filligian threw its purplish-black lungs out at passersby and then sucked them back in again with no damage to itself. Booths, yurts and carts covered most of the Bazaar-dome's floor space creating a maze of very narrow pathways through and around everything. Some displays were mounted on cantilevered scaffolding, while others were suspended from the dome's ceiling from heavy cables as thick a man's leg. These larger structures blocked some of the sunlight coming through the dome, so some places on the floor were cast in dark shadow. To counteract that effect, the dark areas were illuminated by a variety of lamps and flameless torches; one booth even had jars of wriggling bioluminescent worms to light its space.

Where the Clothing District had been a conglomeration of all things fashion, the Universal Bazaar was a random cacophony of everything else. Traders, sellers and buyers from all over the galaxy haggled over everything from works of art to precious metals, from robotic helpmates to animals, from foodstuffs to supposedly curative ointments, herbs and potions. This booth sold seeds and carnivorous flowers, while that one sold raw gemstones. Another sold little insects that looked like miniature dragons; and its neighbor sold something that looked like piles of living eyes (each one blinking at a different interval, and watching the passersby). Even items banned for sale or use in the Federation, such as the Venus Drug and Arboreal Pipe-Vipers, were available here. No wonder the Bazaar was famous, Nyota thought. It was the most amazing, tempting, beautifully exotic and eclectic mess she had ever seen.

It was also immediately overwhelming, and Nyota just sat in the cart for a moment taking it in. Spock's Vulcan brain could easily compartmentalize what he saw, so he could selectively absorb the sounds, images and smells, and dissect them piece-by-piece rather than be inundated with them all at once. At this moment Nyota envied him that skill.

Despite the exceedingly narrow aisles, Spock expertly maneuvered Li'l Otto without a single collision, and she was glad he was in the driver's seat. Some of the passages were so slender Nyota had to keep her hands within the confines of their cart; otherwise, she'd inadvertently knock things from the displays. However, the compact space also made shopping simple, as the vendors could cater to her without her ever having to leave her seat. When she considered purchasing a bracelet made of Spican flame gems and latinum from a Ferengi vendor, Spock asked to hold the item before she paid for it. He placed it level in his up-turned palm and calculated its weight and latinum content by feel alone. "This piece is advertised as eighty-weight latinum," Spock said to her. "It is clearly only seventy-three."

Nyota raised an eyebrow at the vendor whose large ears were flushed in either embarrassment or anger. "Lower the price, and I'll consider purchasing it," she said. The Ferengi snarled, showing snaggled teeth, but dropped the price by eight credits.

"Fifteen credits," Spock said flatly.

"Ten -- " the Ferengi countered.

"Thirteen... and we will not contact the authorities."

"The authorities? About what?"

"The synthetic emeralds you are advertising as genuine; the detritus glacier-crystals you are advertising as diamonds; the pure silicone nodules which are clearly aggregates --"

"Sold!" the Ferengi relented before Spock could continue.

Nyota grinned and added the bracelet to her treasures of the day. "You're good at that!" she complimented Spock as they traveled slowly through the crowded aisles again. "I should take you shopping with me all the time." Spock looked across his shoulder at her, not amused by the notion. Nyota laughed, taking hold of his bicep with both hands. "Don't worry, I won't torture you like that…"

She made several other purchases as they drifted through the Bazaar, some impulsive, most of them gifts for relatives who had never been off-Earth before. Spock was more selective and bought only one more item: a tiny silver compass with a pearlescent face and crystal bezel. He placed it in Nyota's lap after he bought it, and watched her face fill with glee at the sight of it. She laughed and bumped her shoulder against his in a display of affectionate camaraderie before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you! I love it!"

"Take care not to lose it," he cautioned her. "A lost compass is of no value."

Nyota grinned, pulled open her uniform's neckband, and tucked the compass into her bra, between her breasts and against her heart. Spock's eyebrows arched. "That is a very unconventional mode of transportation," he said.

"Yes, but surprisingly effective," Nyota said, laughing.

Later, they stopped amid a collection of small pavilions where exotic foods were being sold. Spock wasn't hungry but he knew Nyota was. She chose some skewers laced with the blackened and spiced flesh of riverbirds, and another covered with large, fried insects that crunched when she chewed them. Spock turned away at the sight of the animal flesh, but said nothing to discourage Nyota from her lunch. He knew she would have made other choices, in deference to him, if they had been available. Aboard the _Enterprise_ he often avoided taking his meals with the rest of crew for just this reason; the sight of the Humans devouring the skin and tissue of once-living things made his stomach roll and his Vulcan sensibilities reel. Synth-meat (9) was available on the ship, but most Humans balked at the idea of consuming it, considering it "unnatural," and claiming it was not digestible and made their entrails cramp. Meat-eating was part of their historical and biological makeup, they said; they were partially carnivorous by nature. As Captain Kirk himself had once told Spock, "My caveman ancestors didn't claw their way to the top of the food chain so I could eat grass and branches." Therefore, Spock said nothing about Nyota's lunch, instead occupying himself with plotting out the next trail of their excursion.

It was then he thought he heard the vlei. (10)

* * *

(1) **Svi'beasu**: translated literally from the Vulcan it means "in the map." It's a technique for mentally plotting out the local terrain so one doesn't get disoriented.  
(2) **Author's Note:** I just made all of this up, basing it on inference and observation rather than Trek canon.  
(3) **Crikian:** a native of the planet Crikiia Opta; Crikians are long-legged quadrupeds with four arms and four eight-fingered hands. Their bodies tilt forward from the pelvis, and their round heads are displayed on top of delicate l-shaped necks. With dark green or dark blue skin, depending on gender, the Crikians are best known for being adroit artisans in fabric making and weaving, sometimes spinning threads from their own bodies to add into their work. **Author's Note:** I made this race up; it's not part of Trek canon.  
(4) **More friends...:** An old Scotsman's toast: _"Mair frien's, and less need o them!"  
_(5) **Xinxian holo-lure:** the Xinxian are an insect-like race that like to lay their eggs in mammals. They use holographic projections around themselves to imitate whatever decoy image they think may be most effective, and then use it to lure prospective egg-receiving candidates to them. **Author's note:** I made this race up; it's not part of Trek canon.  
(6) **Rakhari:** a humanoid species native to the planet Rakhar; Rakhari practice polygamous marriage. (DS9)  
(7) **Tossun:** A native of the planet Tonsunus Minor. Built like living boulders, the Tossuns are known for their brute strength -- and their general refusal to regard anyone else's circumstances but their own. **Author's note:** I made this race up; it's not part of Trek canon.  
(8) **Bugs Bunny:** A fictional cartoon character from Earth created by Tex Avery and Robert McKimson in 1940. "Bugs Bunny" was short for George Washington Bunny, and debuted in the cartoon "A Wild Hare" against Elmer Fudd. With his distinctive Flatbush accent (a blend of dialects from the Bronx and Brooklyn area of New York), his best known catchphrases were: _"Eh... what's up, doc?"_, _"Of course you realize, dis means war,"_ and _"Ain't I a stinker?"  
_(9) **Synth-meat:** a synthetic meat substitute made from a mix of plant fibers, soy and yogurt. **Author's Note:** I made this product up; it's not part of Trek canon. Although, in ST:TNG Commander Riker did note that meat-like substances were available aboard the _Enterprise_ for the Humans to eat.  
(10) **Vlie**: the Vulcan word for a sound that's like a bellow, or a low bull-like roar.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
****Limited Copyright © 2010**

_With thanks to my fanfic betas "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER 9:**

Spock sat behind the steering wheel of their cart and cocked his head. "Do you hear that?" he asked Nyota. She stopped chewing on her lunch and listened, but there were so many sounds around them, she didn't know to which one he was referring. "Hear what?" she asked.

"A vlei," he said, using a word from his own language. "That low bellow, below the sound of the crowd."

Nyota strained to listen again, but could hear nothing. Fear clutched briefly at her chest. _He's having an auditory hallucination,_ she thought to herself. But then she immediately rejected that notion. She reminded herself that a Vulcan's hearing was more acute than a Human's. Spock could easily be hearing things -- real things -- that she could not. "No, I don't," she finally answered. "What do you think it is?"

Spock didn't answer. Instead he put the cart into forward and stepped on the accelerator. With an amazing speed, he was able to maneuver the cart through the lunch crowd toward a destination along the outer rim of the Bazaar. Nyota remembered from reading the signage around the Starbase that the outer rim was were the menageries and slave markets were.

That a Federation Starbase even allowed slave markets on its premises was sickening to her. Her Academy roommate, Gaila, had narrowly escaped such a destiny, and Nyota couldn't fathom the idea of people trading in other people, treating them like chattel. And again her heart ached for Spock who, for a brief moment on New Vulcan, had been treated just like that.

When they had first seen the signs that pointed in the direction of the slave markets, Spock had tried to explain to her the reasoning for allowing such a thing on Jagusch-McGillis, and although he spoke with logic and dispassion, she knew that he didn't agree with the Federation's decision on the matter. He had told her that although the Federation itself had banned slavery, and stringently discouraged such practices among the planets affiliated with it, it also acknowledged that on some planets slavery was commonplace and was even an integral part of some races' societal infrastructures. The Federation's stance, throughout its history, was that it wasn't to impose its will on other non-Federation entities and systems, it wasn't to stand in judgment over the efficacy of other beings' lifestyles and values, and that it wasn't to interfere with the development of other species or other cultures. The fact that it continued to allow other planets to engage in wars, did nothing to interfere with the Ek'tevan Prerogative (even when it effected one of Starfleet's own command personnel), and tolerated the assassins guilds was evidence of that stance. So, as long as none of the slaves sold at the Bazaar were from planets where the practice was officially forbidden, and as long as no buyers were themselves members of the Federation, the slave markets at the Bazaar were permitted to exist. Their leash was a short one, however, and there were red-shirted security guards all along the perimeter of that part of the Bazaar to ensure compliance with Federation guidelines and restrictions. Still, when Spock bypassed the slave markets and headed the cart toward the menageries instead, Nyota actually breathed a deep sigh of relief.

The menageries were what their designation implied: myriad collections of semi-domesticated and wild animals set up for purchase and exhibition purposes. This part of the Bazaar was like a cross between a system-wide zoo, an auction market, and an animal adoption center. Once there, Spock decreased the cart's speed to a mere crawl, in part so as not to startle or distress the animals around them, and in part so he could continue to listen, without the interference of the cart's engine noise, for the sound that had caught his ear before.

All around, now, were zookeepers and animal merchants, selling everything from tribbles to Klingon grint hounds (1), Earth chickens and cattle, gossamer rats and Cardassian voles. When they were halfway through the menagerie, Nyota thought she heard the vlei herself, and it amazed her that Spock had been able to pick up the sound before from such a distance. He guided the cart past a display of targ (2), and then came to a halt beside a large gray tent with a merchant sitting in a wicker lounge chair in front of it. The merchant had cages upon cages of birds piled up around him. There were feathered creatures of all colors, some brilliant some drab; some birds as small as your thumb, others as large as your torso; some winged, some flightless; most of them noisome and announcing their existence with squawks, hoots, trills, towhees, and chirrups. From a small cage in the rear of the display an Earth quail even gave out its distinctive "chi-ca-go!" call.

Surely, Nyota thought, none of these creatures could have made the sound Spock had described to her before as a "low bellow"; then why was he stopping here? _He must have made a mistake._ She looked at him questioningly.

The bird-merchant, who appeared to be a non-Terran humanoid, didn't bother to get up from his chair. Under his layers of mismatched clothing was a lanky, languid form. Although he had a shock of bright orange hair tipped with artificial turquoise, the man was so fair that his skin looked almost chalky; and he had four eyes of a yellow tint so pale it barely qualified as a color at all. He was smoking a thin cigar made of tana leaves(3). Upon seeing Spock and Nyota, he extended long arms out to either side of him saying, "Partake, gentlebeings. Browse. Enjoy. Then let me know if you would like to purchase anything."

Spock stepped out of the cart, but motioned for Nyota to remain seated. Standing beside the vehicle he addressed the merchant directly, in a voice that seemed to order compliance. "Merchant, what is your name?"

The birdman pulled his arms back in around himself and answered, "Who wants to know?"

"I am Spock, Commander and First Officer of the _USS Enterprise_."

"Well, Spock of the _Enterprise_, I am Fennel of the moon-world Inula 43."

Spock's eyebrows knitted slightly. "There is no such planet."

"All right then, I'm from Mars. Does that make you happy?"

"Amusement was not my objective."

"Fun guy," Fennel said to Nyota.

Nyota looked to Spock and said frankly, "Not at the moment, he isn't. When he looks like that, he's dead serious."

Seemingly unimpressed, Fennel lifted himself out of his chair. "He's a Vulcan," he said, speaking as though Spock wasn't there. _"They're pacifists. They never do anything. Even when their own planet was under attack, they just sat there, or scurried away like cave-rats and let it be devoured. _He's no threat_._"

Spock tipped his head slightly, as though he wasn't certain he had actually heard what he believed had just come from the merchant's mouth. When Spock remained stock silent, Nyota cautioned Fennel, "It's really not a good idea to piss him off."

"Really?" Fennel sniffed and stretched, burped loudly, then scratched the back of his head and pretended to look in on some of his birds. _"I heard that the Vulcans are so impotent they can only mate once every seven years."_ He smirked at Spock, who remained expressionless. _"Is this an off-year for you? Is that why you're having a Human female speak for you?"_

"I beg your pardon?" Spock said, again unsure of what he'd heard.

Fennel just looked at him, and flicked a bit of ash off the end of his cigar. Then he said, "Buy something or leave", but Spock heard nothing but gibberish. Either his hearing was defective, or the merchant was deliberately toying with him. "You're blocking traffic," Fennel said.

"There is no traffic here," Spock pointed out, his voice very dark, like the telling sky before a tornado.

Oblivious to the threat, or perhaps simply spitting in the eye of it, the bird-merchant stepped up to Spock close enough so that their toes nearly met.

Nyota warned, "You have got to stop."

"A'ing ru'lut tu," (4) Spock said bluntly to Nyota, his eyes focused on Fennel.

Nyota didn't like to be ordered around in such a tone, but she also knew that at that moment Spock was feeling stressed and unsure of himself, so she didn't counter him. When Fennel next spoke, he spoke directly into Spock's face, punctuating some of his words with smoke from his slim cigar. "Look, Mister _Enterprise_ Commander, you have no authority over me, you have no right to any information about me, and you're interfering with my work. So, buy something... or move on." With each of the last two words, he poked Spock in the chest with a boney finger.

Spock turned his head to one side -- showing off his superior ear form, Nyota surmised -- and then looked down at the finger on his chest, then back up into Fennel's pale eyes. For a moment, Nyota feared Spock would grab the finger and snap it into a painful contortion; and, the truth be told, for a moment Spock considered doing just that. Instead, he took a cleansing breath, allowed his Vulcan sensibilities to reign, and squared his shoulders at the merchant, saying, "Very well. I wish to purchase the sehlat."(5)

"What?" Fennel asked.

Nyota looked confused. She couldn't see a sehlat anywhere around them. "Spock -- ?"

Fennel stepped away from his toe-to-toe with Spock, erroneously assuming that because the Vulcan hadn't physically attacked him, he was safe and in control of the situation. "I am a bird-merchant," he said.

"Perhaps," Spock said. "But you are also in possession of a creature on the Endangered Species list, which puts you in violation of Starfleet Regulation 1531 Section 4A (6)."

"Endangered species? _Aren't __you__ the endangered species, Vulcan?_ You're crazy," Fennel snorted.

"As the Humans would say: you do not know the half of it," Spock answered drolly, his voice still low and foreboding.

The merchant didn't know how to take that comment, so he laughed -- a bit uncomfortably. "There is no sehlat here," he said dismissively.

"I can smell it," Spock said flatly.

"This place is full of animal smells."

"I heard it."

"This place is full of animals noises. There isn't a sehlat here; you're wrong. Move on."

Spock stood his ground. "Many make the error of assuming that the Vulcan sehlat is simply a dumb, wild creature. But they are, in fact, sentient beings, capable of simple thought processes, and with a well-developed sense of self. They emote; they think; they project. I can 'feel' the sehlat. It is here, and your continued assertions to the contrary are both fallacious and illogical. Relinquish the animal to my custody, and I will forgo an arrest."

"You don't have any jurisdiction over me. I'm not a Federation citizen."

"No? But you are on a Federation Starbase and therefore fall under the purview of Starfleet regulations. Under said regulations, any ranking Starfleet officer -- such as myself -- may assume legal authority when other authority is not present in order to ensure that general compliance with Federation law is upheld. Therefore, I restate: being in possession of an animal classified as an Endangered Species, you are in violation of Starfleet Regulation 1531 Section 4A, under which the penalties include a fine of seventy-five thousand credits and two years in a Federation penitentiary -- per violation -- along with the revocation of licensure and transport privileges, and the confiscation of all said animals."

Fennel turned four angry colorless eyes on the Vulcan. "You're mistaken," he said.

"No, I am not." Spock then leaned his head slightly to one side so he could speak past Fennel, and said loudly. "Stariben sehlat."(7)

Nothing but silence met his call.

Nyota looked pained and worried. _What the hell is he doing?_

Fennel sneered. "See? No sehlat."

"Sehlat," Spock said, his eyes level on Fennel. "Kilko-tor nash-veh. Ki'sarlah nash-veh korsau-tor tu."(8) In reply this time, from inside the tent came a long, resonant rumble, like the roar of a bull. Spock took a step forward, and Fennel countered him, blocking his path toward the tent.

"You stay away from my property."

"It would be advantageous for you to cease your present course of action," Spock said plainly.

"Don't threaten me."

"I do not threaten," Spock said. "I state only facts. You are in possession of an animal protected by law. Release the sehlat into my custody, and I will overlook this violation."

"Say I had such an animal -- and I'm not admitting that I do -- and say it was endangered, wouldn't your having it be as much a violation of the law as my having it?"

"Under statute, I have the legal authority to procure the creature, and to see to it that it is transported safely to a more appropriate setting."

"A more appropriate setting," Fennel sneered. "And where would that be? _Vulcan doesn't exist anymore. Where are you going to return it? To that turgid hole in space where your planet used to be?_"

Spock's dark eyes flashed, and before Nyota could warn the merchant, Spock's hand lashed out and struck Fennel in the throat with enough force to severely bruise his windpipe, making him gag and stumble backward into the tent. One side of the structure collapsed under the merchant's weight, exposing several large cages inside which held larger animals that were anything but birds. In one cage was a Klingon cob'lat (9), in another a white Siberian tiger from Earth, and in a third was a full grown Vulcan sehlat. The animals, startled, all started pacing and roaring in their cages. The sehlat's voice was the deepest among them.

Although the illegal animal was now in full view, Fennel still remained unrepentant. On his feet again, he snatched up a stock-prod from the ground and held it like a weapon in front of him, its tip sizzling with white-hot static.

"Oh my God, how stupid are you?!" Nyota challenged him. "Just give us the sehlat."

"She's got more spunk than you'll ever have," the merchant said through his bruised and swollen throat, baiting Spock further. He bounced the prod in his hands. _"How does it feel to be so flaccid, so ineffectual that your Human outshines you? Of course, I'm assuming she's yours. It may be the other way around, huh? Maybe you belong to her. Maybe she's the dominant one here. It that it, Vulcan? Are you the pet and she the master?"_

"Stop speaking," Spock warned slowly.

Fennel looked around them, to the crowd of gawkers and other merchants that was starting to accumulate around the tent. "Maybe we're sick of the Federation ordering us around. Maybe we're sick of all the rules and regulations. The interference with our commerce. The imposition of Federation standards on non-Federation races and cultures. Maybe you should leave."

"Give me the sehlat."

"No."

Spock took another step toward the tent, and Fennel once again stood in his path. "Get out of my way," Spock said very quietly.

"Make me," Fennel said.

For the space of two breaths Spock remained still, and Nyota thought for a moment that he might keep his composure and deescalate the situation by stepping back. They could call Security and have Fennel arrested now that the sehlat was in plain view. But she saw in Spock's posture a rigidness that bespoke a very non-Vulcan refusal to capitulate even in the face of a logical and non-violent resolution to the matter. He wasn't backing down. He wasn't taking "no" for an answer. _And he wasn't going to let the insults of the last few minutes go._

"Spock," she said, trying to pull him out of himself, to get him to face her, so he could leave his anger aside as she knew he should -- and would under any other circumstances. "You've made your point. Let security handle this."

He ignored her, or did not hear her. Instead, he strode forward, and as Fennel lashed the prod down on top of him, Spock caught it with one hand and held it suspended over his head for several seconds. All of Fennel's eyes went wide with shock. The Vulcan's strength was far greater than he had expected. Spock yanked the prod from the merchant's hand and sent it flying over Nyota and the cart. When the thing hit the ground, it bucked with unspent energy, and sparked and fizzled angrily before finally going inert and silent again. Nyota climbed out over the back of the cart and retrieved the thing so neither man could use it again.

Fennel retreated back into the mess that was once his tent, and was rummaging around with both hands for something else to use as a weapon, when Spock was on him again. The Vulcan took him by the back of the neck and threw Fennel behind him into the crowd around the site. The crowd pushed the merchant back toward Spock, who turned, took Fennel by the throat again and hurled him off to the side, toward the larger animals' enclosures. As Fennel fell and skidded across the ground on his back, one of his arms slipped through the bars of the cob'lat's cage. The creature lunged forward and immediately clamped its huge mouth over Fennel's arm. It then drew back fiercely, dragging Fennel toward it with enough force to bash his body against the front of the cage. As the cob'lat tugged on and tussled against his arm, trying to either rend it from his body or pull Fennel through the bars so it could get to the rest of him, Fennel screamed and squealed and kicked. "Get it off me! Get it off me!"

People in the crowd starting shrieking. The birds in their cages fluttered and screeched and tossed their bodies around their cages trying to escape. Feathers flew everywhere. Nyota shouted, "Spock! Do something!"

Her cry seemed to shake Spock out of his mind-numbing rage. He blinked at her, then looked at Fennel, seemingly surprised by what he saw.

The cob'lat was trying to kill the man. Brilliant blue blood seemed to be everywhere.

Spock immediately stepped around to the side of the cob'lat's cage, then, with one hand, reached in, took hold of the muscles along the side of the creature's neck and pinched in firmly. Within seconds his to'tsu'k'hy (10) had rendered the animal unconscious. When the cob'lat fell, it took Fennel down with it, his arm still caught between its locked jaws. The merchant was groaning and whining, his multiple eyes streaming thick bluish tears. "Help me help me help me," he muttered. Some people in the crowd moved forward to try to get the cob'lat off of him, while others just got out of the way as red-shirted Security Officers arrived on the scene, phasers drawn. Nyota rushed over to Spock, and touched his sleeve. He turned his head toward her and blinked again, frowning slightly as though muddled about what had just taken place, like a man trying to awaken fully after a long and very bad dream. "Are you all right?" she asked him.

"I am... uninjured," he said.

"Sir?" one of the Security personnel said, recognizing the full-Commander's stripes on the sleeves of Spock's uniform. "Excuse me, sir?" Spock ignored him -- or couldn't hear him -- so the officer looked to Nyota. "Security Officer Bridges, ma'am. Can you tell me what happened here?"

"Call for a medic," Nyota told him. Then she pointed to Fennel saying, "And place that man under arrest for violation of Starfleet Regulation 1531 Section 4A."

"What regulation is that?" the officer asked, unfamiliar with the code.

"It's one that covers endangered species."

The officer looked puzzled, but pulled out his communicator anyway and called for a medical team to be beamed in directly to the site. He then said to Nyota, "I'm going to need your statement, ma'am. You are...?"

"Lieutenant Nyota Uhura," she said. "Don't call me _ma'am_."

Other Red-Shirts pushed back the crowd and ordered them to disperse, while some of the merchants nearby tried to get Fennel's birds quiet and out of the officers' way. While Nyota was giving Officer Bridges her statement, just as the Starbase medics materialized on the scene and rushed toward Fennel, Spock stepped away from everyone and approached the cage with the sehlat in it.

The bear-like animal was an adult, and most likely had been someone's pet at one time because it wore an old but very ornate hmoi'neks(11) of distinctly Vulcan design around its neck, and its six-inch long saber teeth were adorned with zud ek-zeru(12), a silvery filigree that was currently tarnished and filled in spots with tartar. The creature was easily over one-hundred-and-fifty kilos(13), but was still underweight for a sehlat of its size and age, and its fur was dull and matted. It had not recently been well cared for. Willing himself calm before engaging the creature directly, Spock said, "Na'shaya sehlat. Spahk nash-veh." (14). He then lifted a hand, palm facing the sehlat, and held it up between the bars of the cage.

The animal rolled half-fearful, half-exhausted eyes in his direction.

"Hayal du," Spock said softly. "Hayal du..."(15)

The sehlat gave out a long, chest-rumbling bellow, and two short huffs, then bent its large head in the direction of Spock's hand. Its ears pitched forward, and it snorted hard enough to send a ripple of hot breath across the fabric of his uniform. "Hayal du," Spock again, his voice very quiet and consoling.

Looking away from Bridges, Nyota saw Spock reaching further into the sehlat's cage to touch its head, and she shouted, "Spock, be careful!"

"She will not harm me," Spock said as Nyota hurried toward him.

"She? It's a female?" Nyota asked, moving in behind Spock. She put a hand to the back of his over-shirt so she could grab it in case the sehlat tried to yank him into its cage.

"A female -- and pregnant," Spock said.

Nyota looked over the animal's shabby coat and heavily boned frame, but saw no indication of a swollen belly or enlarged teats. "It doesn't look pregnant to me."

"Sehlats have the ability to hide a pregnancy for long periods of time in order to protect their unborn cubs from predators like the le-matyas. The average gestation period is approximately seven-hundred-and-fifty-two days; somewhat similar to the gestation of the Earth elephant(16). Sehlats, however, can also postpone a birth for up to an additional three months if necessary, to wait for more propitious circumstances or environmental changes. She will 'show' only just before the cubs drop down into the birth canal. They will be born shortly thereafter."

"If she's hiding her pregnancy, how can you tell she's pregnant?"

"I can 'feel' the presence of her cubs; hear their heartbeats."

"More babies for New Vulcan -- " Nyota muttered to herself.

"So it would seem," Spock said just as quietly.

He looked over to Nyota, and just as he did, the sehlat made contact with his hand. Spock's whole body shuddered briefly at the touch as the sehlat's mind sought out his own. Fearing that the creature might initiate a mok farr (17) with him, Nyota held Spock's free hand in her own, hoping that her Human touch would help to anchor him. It took Spock several moments of deep concentration to push back the animal inferences in the contact with the sehlat, and filter through to the beast's higher thought processes. "Spock?" Nyota said.

"She calls herself Pa'shu," Spock responded slowly. Linked to the sehlat, his voice sounded distant and gravely. "She is fourteen summers old. Her family -- her Vulcan family -- was lost... They managed to flee Vulcan before it was destroyed, but then succumbed to a blood disease (18)... and died en route to the Ip-sut Monastery... Pa'shu alone survived... The ship was discovered drifting in space by a Pakled vessel... Believing she had no value, the Pakled sold Pa'shu to a merchant named Segall, and then she fell into Fennel's hands by way of a wager..."

"Poor thing," Nyota murmured. "She's been through a lot."

"Yes -- " Spock said. He then extricated himself carefully from the link with Pa'shu, but still maintained his handhold with Nyota. "I can... empathize," he mumbled in his own voice. Spock waited a few seconds for the effect of the meld to diminish more fully, and then looked down at Nyota's hand which held his own. His fingers caressed it. "Thank you," he said.

Nyota gave his hand a squeeze. "Any time." She looked at the sehlat which was now leaning itself the bars of its cage, nearest to Spock. "Are we really going to take her back with us, Spock?" Nyota asked.

"I do have the authority as a Starfleet officer, and a Vulcan, to remove her from Mr. Fennel's custody."

"There's no way she's going to fit in the cart."

"I will beam up with her to the _Enterprise_, then come back here for you so we can return the cart to the rental station."

"No. Why don't we just beam up together? I can tell the medics to take the cart back. Just give me a minute to collect our things." Spock nodded.

Nyota hurried off to get their purchases from the back of the cart and Bridges stepped up to her. "Folks in the crowd said the Commander threw the first blow. I'm going to need a statement from him."

"We're leaving. But you can contact him aboard the _Enterprise_."

"Who do we ask for?"

"Commander Spock," she said, somewhat surprised that the officer hadn't figured that out already. Spock was the only Vulcan in Starfleet with a Commander's rank. "Can you get the cart back to the rental depot?" she asked.

"Uh, sure -- " the officer said.

"Thanks," Nyota said, and rushed back to Spock with her arms ladened with their purchases. As she approached him, Spock stepped around to the opposite side of the sehlat's cage and forced the door open. He then reached in, took Pa'shu gently by her collar, and lead her out of captivity.

~*~*~*~

"He brought a what onto my ship?" Kirk asked later that afternoon as he stepped out of the shower in his private bathroom aboard ship. It was the third shower he'd taken that day. He just couldn't seem to get the feel of the Xinxian egg-drop-lubricant off of his skin or out of his mind. From the adjoining bedroom room, Dr. McCoy answered him, "A Vulcan sehlat."

"And what is a Vulcan sehlat?" the captain asked, walking into the bedroom, rubbing his damp reddish-brown hair with a towel. Another towel hung around his otherwise naked waist.

"It's kind of like a bear -- a shaggy, stinking, three-hundred-and-some-odd-pound, saber-toothed bear."

Kirk stood still for a moment, looking into McCoy's face, waiting to hear that it was all in jest. When no such remark came from the doctor, Kirk said, "You are joking, right?"

"No joke, Captain. Apparently, our First Officer is hell bent on saving everything and anything even remotely associated to his homeworld, even big smelly animals. Surrey thinks it might be connected to a form of survivor's guilt or something."

"Crap, Bones. Doesn't Spock have enough to deal with?"

"What can I say; he's apparently a glutton for punishment."

"Well, that can't be logical -- "

"Do you want to tell him that? 'Cause I'm not going to. I'd like to be able to get through my life without having my ass kicked by a disgruntled Vulcan. Word is, he started a knock-down drag-out with a bird-merchant on Jagusch-McGillis in order to get his hands on the bear." Before Kirk could question him on that McCoy pointed to a PADD on the top of his dresser. "The report's in there, waiting for your signature. And since fighting of any kind, for any reason, is against Starbase protocols, we've been politely asked to make sure that Commander Spock remain aboard the _Enterprise_ for the duration of our stay here."

"I can't believe Spock would deliberately pick a fight with anyone. He must have been coerced. I'll talk to the Base Commander; see if we can't do something to... I don't know. Something. Do you know who the Commander is?"

"Giselle Marie-Élise," McCoy said.

Kirk rubbed the back of his neck with the towel, then laid it across his shoulders. "Really? The Base Commander is a woman?" He smiled. "What's her favorite drink?"

"Coffee. Black."

The captain frowned. He walked to his closet, pulled out a clean set of uniform clothing and turned back to McCoy. "Give me five minutes to get dressed, then I want to go see what this sehlat-thing looks like and have a talk with Spock before I decide what to say to the Base Commander."

"Aye aye, Captain," McCoy said, and he left the bedroom to wait in the adjoining front room.

"McCoy?" Kirk called to him.

"Yeah, Jim -- "

"How's Scotty doing?"

"He's going to have a headache for the next three days, but he'll live."

~*~*~*~

Mister Scott was sitting on the floor of the Shuttle Bay, cradling his aching head between his hands as he watched Spock, Sa'aat and Nyota bathe the filthy sehlat. The creature was too large to fit into the standard shower stalls in the crewmen's quarters, so Scotty had jury-rigged some water and air hoses in the bay for them to use. Then he moved back, out of the way, because the sound of the sehlat roaring and Lieutenant Uhura squealing and giggling whenever the animal shook its hide and sprayed her all over with water made his head throb.

Sa'aat's vessel, the _Haulat_, was still in the bay and hovered a few inches above the deck behind Mr. Scott. When he took a seat on the floor, it propelled itself forward slightly and nudged him in the back. Scotty waved it off. When it nudged him again, he turned to it, gave it pained look and said, "Not now, laddie. Cannae you tell I'm five feet under? And, for your information, that's one less than six. Six feet under, and I'd be dead." The ship gave out a small sound like a woeful sigh. "Oh, boo-hoo yourself," Scotty said.

"How's it going, Mister Scott?" Captain Kirk said in a voice that was deliberately overloud when he and McCoy entered the Shuttle Bay.

Scotty grimaced and pointed to the _Haulat_. "Ask him -- " The captain chuckled, clapped Scotty on the shoulder as he walked by, and headed over to where Pa'shu was getting her bath.

The sehlat was without her collar, wet to the skin, and dripping with soap, but still looked impressively huge, a hunkering mound of muscle and fur that came up to the middle of Spock's chest. Its mouth was large enough to hold (and effectively crush) a Human head, and its canine teeth were longer than Kirk's hand. Although Dr. McCoy had somewhat prepared him for the sight of the beast, Kirk wasn't prepared for the sight of the two soaked-to-the-skin Vulcans tending to the animal, and Lieutenant Uhura in a one-piece swimsuit.

Sa'aat was standing in front of the sehlat, using a small, sonic dental-device on its fangs to remove the tartar buildup on them and restore the sheen of the zud ek-zeru. He was stripped down to what looked like the Vulcan equivalent of boxer-briefs. A prime example, as was Spock, of the thin, elongated figures that were native to the desert planet of their birth, Sa'aat's muscles were lean and taught, and his whole body looked capable of deadly force. Kirk was surprised, however, to see that Sa'aat was also badly scarred down the right side of his body(19), while the left side was highly decorated with colorful tattooing. Besides what seemed to be a long script of brilliant green Vulcan calligraphy that ran down the left half of Sa'aat's back from his shoulder to his waist, most of the tattoo images were alien to Kirk, things only a Vulcan mind could conjure up. The captain wondered what they all signified: the translucent blue flames, a yellow and orange sun surrounded by intricately woven rings, a small gray creature with red lightning bolts searing through its fur... It was difficult for Jim not to stare.

Of course, the sight of Nyota helped to distract him. It also reminded him again how much he envied Spock's relationship with her. She was shorter than the males, and far more petite. Her swimsuit, made of a water-resistant semi-metallic fabric, fit her like a second skin and glistened when she moved. Like the men, she was barefoot; but unlike them, her toenails were painted a glossy ebony with tiny silver rhinestones along the outer rims of the nails of the big toes. She was standing next to Spock as they lathered up the sehlat's back, working the soap in deep through the animal's fur to get to its skin. Mounds of sparkling white foam and bubbles clung to Nyota's dark skin.

Next to her was Spock, dressed in a black t-shirt and Federation-issue fitness shorts that hugged his lower body from his waist to the middle of his thighs. Below the shorts, his legs and feet were bare. The shirt was drenched in water from the sehlat's bath, and clung to him, showing off a trim physique with sleek musculature similar to Sa'aat's that gave only minimal hints as to how physically powerful he truly was. Although Kirk had often worn similar gear himself, seeing Spock in it was oddly surprising, and despite their almost two years in service together he'd never seen the Vulcan quite so... exposed. Spock had also used his hands to push his wet hair away from his face, so his signature bangs were currently lost in the rest of the hair on the top of his head, and his broad forehead was revealed. If it hadn't been for his pointed ears, he could have easily been mistaken for a Human just then.

When Kirk approached them, Pa'shu gave out a warning roar, to which Mister Scott, on the other side of the bay groaned, "Och, Jesus -- !" and held his head.

Upon seeing the captain, Spock started to come to attention, but Jim excused him with a wave of his hand and a smiled, "As you were, Commander." Spock relaxed and continued to apply soap to the sehlat.

"So," Kirk said, walking around the wet group, "what have we here?"

"Pa'shu," Nyota answered.

"Geshundheit," Kirk replied.

"No, Pa'shu. That's her name," Nyota said with a chuckle. The bear got some suds caught in its nose, turned its head away from Sa'aat, and sneezed briefly. Bear snot shot across the floor.

"Geshundheit," the captain repeated. "And where is Pasha going to stay after he's all cleaned up?"

"Pa'shu is a female, Captain," Spock corrected him. "And I was presuming she could stay with me or in my quarters until a more suitable situation is found for her. She is domesticated. She is used to being around humanoids. She should not pose any difficulty."

"Does she... need any shots? Vaccinations?"

"Dr. Antibius, the ship's xenobiologist and resident doctor of veterinary medicine, will be providing her with a Rabies vaccine later this evening, along with a vaccination against Scoloran Fever (20); although, contraction of that particular disorder is a virtual impossibility since the viral agent that causes it was exclusive to Vulcan."

"And is she house-trained?" Kirk asked, knowing even as the questions left his lips that he sounded a like a parent drilling child on the training and upkeep of its first puppy. "I don't want her pooping all over the poop deck..." He smiled at his own joke.

Spock remained expressionless, and answered. "As with most creatures native to Vulcan, the selhat's digestive and urinary systems are designed to retain and recycle as much fluid as possible, therefore very little waste is excreted. I will, nonetheless, personally see to its proper disposal."

"Aren't sehlats naturally aggressive?" Dr. McCoy asked.

"Only when unfed," Spock responded frankly.

"And what does she eat?" Kirk asked. "She won't be snacking on yeomans or anything, will she?"

"Sehlats are omnivorous. Pa'shu will do well on the foodstuffs available in the ship's galley, however, replicated foods will have to be avoided as her simple digestive system with not tolerate the synthetics. I myself will provide her meals," said Spock.

"Sound like you've pretty much thought this through," the captain said. "How long do you intend on keeping her?"

"Only until a permanent alternative placement can be found for her, Captain."

"To that end," Sa'aat put in. "We are making inquiries about Pa'shu's former keepers, to see if they have any living relations who would be willing to take her in. Should all else fail, Spock has stated a desire to send Pa'shu to New Vulcan."

"At this time, it is unclear how many sehlats still exist," Spock said. "Pa'shu may be the only surviving sow(21) of her species."

"And that's why you thought she was worth fighting for?" Kirk asked.

Spock looked at the floor, his posture conciliatory. "I... do regret my behavior, Captain." Then he met Jim's eyes again, adding, "And I will surrender myself for disciplinary action, should you request it."

"I'm not sure that any disciplinary action is called for at this moment, Mister Spock, but I will have to investigate your little brouhaha down there. It's not like you to lose your temper, and in light of other recent events, any loss of control on your part can be considered... worrisome."

"Agreed," said Spock.

"Actually, I was sort of surprised to see your name on any incident report. I mean, I expect that kind of thing from Scotty -- "

"Hey, now, be nice," Scotty whined from across the bay.

" -- But not from you."

"I assure you, Captain, it will not happen again," Spock said.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Kirk said. "In the meantime, let's get Pasha, here, cleaned up and out of the Shuttle Bay, all right? I'm sure that everybody has other duties they need to attend to."

"Yes, Captain."

Pa'shu snorted in a nose full of soap again, turned her head away from Sa'aat, and then sneezed in the captain's direction.

Both McCoy and Nyota doubled over with laughter.

His face dripping with thick, glopping, bear mucus, Kirk looked over to McCoy and said, "I'll be in my quarters, if you need me... taking yet another shower."

~*~*~*~

Planetside, Captain Kirk sat in the reception area of the Base Commander's office. It had already been almost twenty-two minutes. The chair was uncomfortable, and the receptionist as patently uninteresting, and he was getting quickly bored. He stood up and walked around a bit, looking out the sixth-story windows of the office onto a view of the transporter pads and receiving area of the base below. Amid the crowd at ground level, there was a leggy woman waiting for a shuttle cart with a large dog, like a Great Dane, on a leash beside her. The dog sidled over to a red-shirted Security Officer and lifted it leg. Kirk laughed quietly.

"Captain James T. Kirk, I presume," came the voice of the Base Commander from behind him. He dropped his smile with a forced cough, and turned to face her.

Giselle Marie-Élise was a small, older woman, no more than five feet high, fiftyish, with a grim haircut that framed her long face in stark geometric angles. She was dressed in the same kind of charcoal-black uniform and shoes the instructors at the Academy all wore, and had round-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose -- an archaic and unusual accouterment, since it was easy enough these days to correct vision with surgery and optical implants. Despite this severe first impression, however, there was a twinkle in her dark blue eyes that caught Kirk's attention, and when the woman smiled at him in greeting, the smile was a warm and welcoming one.

"Thank you for waiting," she said. "I would have stepped out earlier, but I was on a conference call."

"Base Commander Marie-Élise," Kirk responded, stepping toward her and holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Call me Giselle," she said, accepting his hand. "Everybody does. You'll find that, despite general appearances, we're not quite as formal here as you might be on your starship."

Kirk chuckled. Little did she know, he thought. Giselle led him into her private suite and shut the door, offered him a glass of water which he politely declined, and then had him sit in a (thankfully) comfortable chair across from her at a small table. She referenced a PADD on the table as she said, "I understand why you're here. I've read the report regarding your First Officer and his confrontation with the bird-merchant Fennel Debrecen. Witnesses say your man threw the first punch."

"Well, that may be true, ma'am, but -- "

"And that he may have jeopardized the legality of the confiscation of the sehlat by possibly violating Base Statute 106.54 regarding unlawful access onto private property, in this case: Fennel's tent."

"I know it may seem that way; however, if I may --"

"If I may finish, Captain..."

"Sorry," Kirk said.

"Now, after a full review of the incident reports and eye witness statements, it is apparent that prior to the physical confrontation, Commander Spock had made it clear to Debrecen that he could smell the sehlat, hear the animal and 'feel' it. Those kinds of statements coming from anyone else might be completely meaningless, but this Base Commander recognizes the Vulcan capacity for psionic awareness, and for their accuracy at discerning sounds and scents, even at a distance."(22)

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I'm not finished," Giselle said, adjusting her glasses.

"Sorry," Kirk said again.

"You don't have to be sorry, Captain; you just have to be quiet."

Kirk was going to respond, but then pursed his lips and nodded instead .

Giselle continued, "It is also documented that Commander Spock properly identified himself to Debrecen as a ranking Starfleet officer, apprised him of the specific regulation to which he believed Debrecen was in violation, and gave Debrecen ample opportunity to relinquish the animal to him before any action to secure the beast was taken. As to the assertions by Debrecen that Commander Spock was acting with undue force and brutality, it is pointed out that when Debrecen was under attack by the Klingon cob'lat, it was the actions of Commander Spock alone that ensured Debrecen's rescue. This indicates that Commander Spock held no malice against Debrecen, and acted without spite. Now..." When Kirk shifted in his chair, Giselle paused and said, "I'm almost finished."

The captain gave her a little smile of appreciation.

"Now," she continued, "taking into consideration Commander Spock's otherwise pristine record in Starfleet, alongside Fennel Debrecen's rather... shall we say, less than stellar reputation, it is the finding of this Base Commander that Commander Spock was exercising his authority as a Starfleet officer to obtain the custody and safety of an animal recognized as a member of an endangered species under Regulation 1531 Section 4A, and that the physical action taken by Commander Spock to secure the animal may have been warranted, as Fennel Debrecen was, at the time of the altercation, effectively resisting an arrest. Therefore, all charges against Commander Spock are hereby dropped and all requests for disciplinary action are hereby vacated."

"Thank you, ma'am," Kirk said with relief.

"Don't worry, Captain, nothing of this incident will appear on your First Officer's permanent record."

Kirk nodded at her, smiling, grateful. Giselle lifted her glasses away from her face and tilted her head to one side, saying, "You could have just waited for my report, Captain Kirk."

"Yes, I know. I just wanted to make sure that Spock got a fair assessment. He's been going through a lot lately, and... and I didn't want anything else to get heaped onto his plate right now."

"The fact that you took time away from your shore leave to come here, in the late afternoon when the saloons are all having _happy hour_, in full uniform, and so clean you're practically squeaky, tells me he means a lot to you."

"Yes, ma'am, he does."

"That's nice to hear." Giselle put her glasses back on and extended her hand.

Kirk shook it, but when she didn't release his hand right away, he gave her a questioning look. "Ma'am?"

"Would you like to join me for coffee, Captain Kirk?"

The captain grinned.

~*~*~*~

In the early evening, when she had finished her duties for the day, Nyota headed toward Spock's private quarters carrying the bolt of Vulcan fabric he had purchased at the Bazaar. It had been assigned to Ensign Herich to deliver it to Spock's quarters, but had he fallen behind and forgotten about it, and the bolt had been sitting in will-call all afternoon. Herich was grateful when Nyota offered to take it off his hands. When she rang the chime beside Spock's door, she heard him answer with the word, "Come," and the door opened for her. Nyota stepped inside his front room, and found Spock sitting in the near-dark on the floor with his back to the wall. Pa'shu was beside him, bunked down on a mattress with a nest of blankets under her, snoring peacefully. The room was filled with the sweet smell of the sehlat's earlier bubble bath.

Nyota set the bolt of fabric down and walked over to Spock, who did not rise to greet her. He looked exhausted, as though he might drift off to sleep himself at any moment. When she neared, he put an arm out to her and drew her toward him, resting his head against her thighs. She caressed and stroked his hair, kissed him on the top of the head, and said quietly, "How is she doing?"

"Settling in nicely," Spock said.

"And how are you doing -- ?"

Spock didn't answer; he only sighed, straight-faced, stolid.

Nyota kissed his head again and suggested, "You're almost asleep already, and Pa'shu looks like she won't miss you much if you just go into the next room. Why don't you go to bed?"

"In a moment -- " Spock said, his eyes still on the animal. "Her previous family must have been quite wealthy. The zud ek-zeru is made of Vulcan surgical steel and is bonded directly to her teeth." He pointed out several circular and oval settings that were part of the filigree design of the metal. "There also used to be gemstones embedded in it."

"What happened to them?"

"Unknown. However, I believe it may be safe to assume that either Segall or Fennel Debrecen removed them. There is also evidence, here --" He indicated some gouges near the top of Pa'shu's left fang. " -- that at one point, someone had attempted to saw off her teeth. Whatever instrument was used was not effective. Sehlat bone is quite dense."

Nyota couldn't tell if Spock was more upset by the attempted mutilation of the animal, the theft of her tooth jewelry, or by the fact that, in ancient Vulcan culture, the loss of one's teeth at the hands of another was symbolic of abject defeat. In their very distant past, when the Vulcans were a violent race, it wasn't uncommon for a Vulcan warrior to deliberately bash out the teeth of his enemy, and then leave the enemy trapped someplace where there was nothing but nuts, hard fruits and animal flesh to eat. Without teeth to chew the tough foodstuffs, the vanquished usually died a slow death of starvation. Such thoughts were ugly ones, and Nyota worried that Spock was slipping into a depressive mode. She didn't know what to say, so she tried, "Have you have any dinner? I can go get you something to eat."

He looked up at her, his eyes alone speaking to his affection for her, and said, "You are most perceptive."

"That's what I keep trying to tell everybody, but no one listens to me," Nyota joked. She smiled at him. "What can I get for you?"

Spock focused inwardly for a moment, then looked back to her. "Cream of broccoli soup," he said, "and some kap, if you please. Fresh, not replicated -- " The last statement was phrased more like a question.

Spock so seldom asked her for anything for himself that she was eager to fulfill his want. She told him, "I'll be right back," and headed out of his quarters toward the galley. She knew a shortcut through one of the Jeffries Tubes, and could get there in less than three minutes.

When she was gone, Spock leaned his head back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes, intending only to rest them.

~*~*~*~

_The island was a tiny one, a single spot of land on the face of the planet, surrounded by a sea of black water. It was night, and everything on the island was slick and gleaming from a recent rain. Spock, dressed in his pajamas and robe, was barefoot walking along a boardwalk near the shore. Adjacent to the boardwalk, there were ships and other smaller crafts (not flying vessels, but those made for water-travel) docked for the disembarking tourists. He passed a small group of Ferengi who were wearing brightly colored short-sleeved shirts, and they grumbled to one another about the accommodations, and how difficult it would be for them to leave again if they wanted to. Spock did not share their discomfort. Although he was alone and in an alien landscape, he felt no fear or trepidation. Oddly enough, the place seemed almost comfortable to him. _

_Just at the spot where the boardwalk met the land, his path was blocked by a being dressed entirely in black. Over its inky clothing was layer upon layer of equally dark gauze that gave the being's body a filmy and unfocused quality. When the cool night air stirred it, the layers of gauze lifted and lilted around the being as though they themselves were alive. And from the gaps in between the layers of floating fabric, thousands of specks of grey light shone out, tiny, bleak and cold. _

_The being's face was covered by black veils topped with a framework of ornate lace made of laser-cut obsidian. Its head seemed elongated, suggesting that under the veils the being may have worn a crown on its head that raised the veils and stone frame up to another level. Although he could not see its true form, Spock knew that the being was male, and that it oversaw everything that took place on the island._

_"I need to take my mother to the mountains," Spock said to it when it did not move._

_"You cannot go this way," the being said to him. "The path is barred." The being stepped aside and Spock could see a low gate across the pathway behind it._

_"How will I get to the mountains, then?" Spock asked._

_The being pointed off to Spock's right, its hand and arm raising under the layers of gauze. In that direction was a narrow road paved in dark asphalt. From somewhere overhead, white balls of light hung, and they only barely illuminated the way. In their light, the wet asphalt shimmered. "You can get to the mountains, but first you will have to shovel snow," the being said. "Your mother cannot do it. You alone must do the work."_

_Spock looked at the being. "I would never ask that my mother labor in such a fashion," he said, and he turned to his right and headed down the asphalt road._

_The road was a slender strand, miles long, constricted between what looked like towering buildings which had no windows or doors, and which sometimes seemed to lean over slightly as though threatening to fall on him. Still, Spock was unafraid and undaunted, and kept moving forward until he reached a place where a building blocked the road. _

_On this building there was a large door, like that on a garage or aircraft bay, and he had to use all of his strength to lift it open and out of his way. Beyond the door, was a gigantic hanger, thousands of square feet wide and deep. Everything inside of it was white, covered with ice and layers of heavy snow; yet, the room was not cold. The ice on the floor did not chill or burn his bare feet, and he could not see the condensation of his breath when he breathed. In the very far distance was a square block of white light which suggested it was a way out, but Spock did not head toward it. Instead, we pulled a shovel from among a selection of them frozen against the wall by the door and began to shovel the snow. _

_What he dug from one area, piled up in another, and, for what seemed a long while, he felt his exercise was futile and unproductive. Yet, he kept digging, first in this spot, then in another. Near the base of the icebound hulk of a lifeless vessel, his shovel uncovered what looked like a bit of pale cloth. He dug a bit further, but then fearing that the blade of the shovel might damage whatever it was beneath the snow, Spock got onto his knees and started scooping the snow away with his hands. He worked quickly, expertly, sweeping away the snow with his fingertips where it was at its thinnest, and using his cupped hands like ladles to remove the rest of it. When he had uncovered all he could, he stood up again and looked at the floor below him._

_There on the floor was the frigid body of Sybok._

Spock awoke from the dream with a start, and nearly knocked the bowl of soup from Nyota's hands.

* * *

(1) **Grint Hound:** a kind of Klingon dog that is known to hunt razorbacks.  
(2) **Targ:** another animal native to the Klingon homeworld, it's like a wild pig or boar with sharp tusks. Klingon both hunt targ and keep them as pets. Heart of Targ is a Klingon delicacy.  
(3) **Tana leaves:** This was added as a kind of joke. Tana (or "tanna") leaves were used in the 1930's movies and serials based on The Mummy, to reanimate the dead; the fluid of nine tana leaves was used to keep the mummy Kharis alive.  
(4)**A'ing ru'lut tu:** Translated from the Vulcan it means "close your mouth"; basically, he's telling Nyota to shut up.  
(5) **Sehlat:** A large bear-like creature native to Vulcan. Most full-grown sehlats are between 400 and 600 pounds. Usually, the smaller ones were the domesticated variety, and the larger ones the feral variety. There was also a breed of desert-dwelling sehlat called the vai-sehlat. Sarek had a sehlat named I-Chaya which he gave to Spock when Spock was a child. I'Chaya later had to be put down when he was poisoned by a le'matya while protecting Spock. Spock's mother Amanda once told Dr. McCoy that the sehlats were like giant teddy bears. To counter this amusing image, Spock responded with, "The teddy bears on Vulcan are alive and have six-inch fangs." (TOS: _Journey to Babel_)  
(6) **Starfleet Regulation 1531Section 4A:** There actually is no such regulation in Trek canon. I made this up based on the US code for the Endangered Species Act of 1973 (7 U.S.C. § 136, 16 U.S.C. § 1531 et seq.) of the planet Earth... which I assumed would have been amended and improved upon over the centuries to include non-Earth creatures from planets that were part of the Federation.  
(7) **Stariben sehlat:** translated from the Vulcan it means, "Speak, sehlat."  
(8) **Kilko-tor nash-veh. Ki'sarlah nash-veh korsau-tor tu:** translated from the Vulcan this means, "Answer me. I have come to free you."  
(9) **Cob'lat:** A Klingon animal similar to lions on Earth.  
(10) **To'tsu'k'hy:** the Vulcan neck-pinch (also called the nerve-pinch). According to Wickipedia, _"... Leonard Nimoy, who portrayed the Vulcan science officer Spock, conceived the maneuver in the early days of the original __Star Trek__ series. The script for "The Enemy Within" stated that Spock "kayoes" Captain Kirk's duplicate, but Nimoy felt that such an action would be undignified for a Vulcan — he therefore invented an alternative. In __Star Trek__'s scripts, the pinch is referred to as the __FSNP__, for __Famous Spock Nerve Pinch__..."  
_(11) **Hmoi'neks:** the Vulcan word for "collar".  
(12) **Zud ek-zeru:** translated from the Vulcan it means "tooth jewelry".  
(13) **150 kilos:** this equals a little under 350 pounds. (The sehlat should have been 400 pounds.)  
(14) **Na'shaya sehlat. Spahk nash-veh.**: Translated from the Vulcan this means, "Greetings, sehlat. I am Spock."  
(15) **Hayal du:** Translated from the Vulcan it means "calm yourself"  
(16) **Gestation** **Period**: Since it hadn't been addressed anywhere (as far as my research could tell), I made up the time frame for the sehlat's gestation so it was possible for Pa'shu to have been bred shortly before the destruction of Vulcan. On Earth, the elephant's gestation period is about 640-645 days.  
(17) **Mok farr:** usually a training ritual initiated by an adult Vulcan with an animal in order to feel the animal's raw and primitive emotional structure; sentient animals can also initiate the link with a Vulcan when desired.  
(18) **The Blood Disease:** This refers to the Trek disease "choriocytosis", a virus the affects the blood cells, encasing them so they cannot carry oxygen to the organs, and the patient "suffocates"; it can affect both Humans and Vulcans, but is fatal to Vulcans if it goes untreated for more than a few days. (_Star Trek: The Animated Series_).  
(19) **Sa'aat's scars:** In my back-story for Sa'aat I had contrived the story of his being severely wounded while protecting a fellow assassin in the Guild. He had stood in front of his fellow and took the blast from a Compression Phaser Rifle at close range. The blast tore out a chunk of his right side, damaging his ribs, lungs and heart, and he would have died from his injuries had he not been proficient in the Vulcan _tow-kath_ (the healing trance). To "balance" out his scarred side, he had his unblemished side decorated with tattoos of images he had seen in dreams during his protracted recovery.  
(20)**Scoloran Fever:** I made this malady up; considered it something like a "distemper" vaccine for domesticated sehlats.  
(21) **Sow:** mother bears are typically referred to as sows.  
(22) **Sense of smell:** Although most of the material on Vulcans suggests that their sense of smell isn't highly developed, this was blatantly contradicted in the "_Enterprise_" television series, specifically the _"Broken Bow"_ episode, which indicated that female Vulcans had a very heightened sense of smell. It also seemed "illogical" to me that Vulcans would have a well-developed tactile sense, extraordinary eyesight and hearing, but then have a deficit in their olfactory sense; therefore, for my stories, I'm going with the idea that Vulcans have an acute sense of smell and that Spock could have easily discerned the scent of the sehlat from among the other animal scents around him.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_With thanks to my fanfic betas "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**  
CHAPTER 10:**

Nyota was awake and out of bed before Spock, which was unusual. His internal-clock and work ethic typically got him up and moving before most crewmembers, so his sleeping in was anomalous. Nyota, freshly showered and in uniform, was standing before his bathroom mirror, putting her hair up in a high ponytail when he approached, still in his pajamas, eyes rimmed with sleep and hair mussed. His beard, which grew quickly and heavily, was a dark shadow of stubble. In public, Vulcan males were always tidy and clean-shaven, so Nyota enjoyed the momentary treat of seeing her Vulcan looking 'natural' and scruffy. She smiled at his reflection and said, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

"Asal rom ish-veh, k'diwa," (1) Spock muttered. He moved her hands aside and finished putting up her hair.

Their previous night had been relatively quiet. After Spock had awakened suddenly from his dream, Nyota had convinced him to go to bed. She had helped him shed his uniform and into his night clothes, and then they sat on his bed while he finished his light supper of soup and kap. Although he'd made a few perfunctory overtures to initiate sex, she didn't press him, and they simply ended up in each other's arms: he kissing and nuzzling her, she stroking his length to relieve some of his tension. Nyota then massaged his back, neck and shoulders until he released himself to much-needed sleep, then took up the spot beside him on the bed and drifted off herself.

He had been sleeping so soundly when she awoke she didn't want to disturb him, especially in light of the fact he hadn't slept well the past several months. Instead, she'd slid away as quietly as she could to check on Pa'shu. The sehlat had been snoring away in the front room. Either she was exceedingly comfortable already, or she was recovering from her ordeal of the last year or so, which had culminated in a bath and a pair of vaccinations yesterday afternoon. Remembering the sehlat's reaction to the shots -- a roar so loud it nearly blew out the veterinarian's new hair plugs -- made Nyota giggle a bit.

"Do I amuse you?" Spock softly asked her image in the bathroom mirror.

"Always," Nyota said with a gentle playfulness. "But I was actually reliving Pa'shu's date with the vet last night."

"She is enceinte," Spock said in defense of the animal. "Which makes her more sensitive."

"I hope you're this understanding when I get pregnant --" Nyota quipped before biting her tongue. "Oh, I'm sorry, Spock. I shouldn't joke about that."

Spock shook his head, but she wasn't sure if he was dismissing the subject or scolding her about her jest. "The subject is not prohibited. In fact, I believe it is something we should discuss when time permits," he said, smoothing her finished hair with both of his hands. "Will I see you at lunch this afternoon?"

He hadn't mentioned her work schedule for the day, or his. She was being allowed back at the Communications Station on the bridge, while he was still on restricted duty, prohibited from making any command decisions or assuming his normal post. Although he would never admit to feeling irked or despondent, Nyota knew he prided himself on his job performance, and the restrictions due to his current mental difficulties frustrated him. He had assigned himself busy-work in Engineering to occupy his time and mind, and although he felt all work was valuable and worthwhile; she knew he regretted not being on the bridge. She answered him with, "When and where?"

"My quarters, thirteen-hundred hours?" he suggested.

She turned to him, smiling. "Your quarters, thirteen-hundred," she agreed. "You have an appointment with Dr. McCoy for the bio scan today, right?"

"Yes. I am also hoping to be able to schedule another appointment with Dr. Surrey."

"About your dream --"

"Yes," the _among other things_ was implied in his tone.

Nyota put her hands to Spock's chest, working her fingertips through the material of his pajama shirt so they could make contact with his skin. "I am -- I am meeting with Dr. Surrey myself later this afternoon," she said. She wasn't sure if she should tell him but she didn't want to lie to him, and she didn't want him finding out from someone else. When Spock's expression told her nothing, she asked him, "Is that all right with you?"

"Yes, of course it is," Spock said, not entirely convincingly. His head then tilted slightly to one side, and straightened up again. Then he asked, "Are you having difficulties? Is there something I can do to assist you?"

"No," she tried to make light of the situation. "I just want to get some information from him; clarify some things. It's not a big deal, really. I know he's your doctor, so, if you want me to, I can take my questions to one of the other ship's counselors."

"That is not necessary," Spock said. He looked her over, straightened the collar of her red over-shirt, pulled her long ponytail forward over one shoulder, and said, " I know my present dysfunction has caused us some... complications, k'diwa. And... I admit, as of late, I have been less than exemplary in my performance as your mate, so if you need to seek couns--"

"Oh, Spock, that's not true," Nyota assured him honestly. "Have you heard me complain about 'us'? Don't be so hard on yourself. You're allowed down-time just like everyone else, you know."

Spock's dark eyes smiled at her as the rest of his face remained expressionless. "Sybok said much the same thing," he said.

Nyota's heart sank. _He __has__ been hallucinating about his half-brother_.

She was going to ask Spock to identify who Sybok was, talk about him more, but then decided against that. She already knew who Sybok was, and to pretend she didn't would have been a lie. She couldn't, wouldn't lie to Spock. After several beats she asked, "Oh? What did he say to you?"

"That I am too demanding on myself; that my standards for performance are too high," Spock answered. "I do not entirely agree with the assessment; however, I am keeping his cautions -- and yours -- in mind."

"Well, good," she said, trying to keep the tinge of sadness from her tone. _At least the hallucination was supportive and not encouraging him to damage himself_, she thought.

Nyota didn't want to leave him, but she was going to be late if she lingered any longer, so she pulled his pajama shirt open slightly between the buttons and kissed him softly on the chest. She reached up and traced his stubble-roughened cheek and jaw line as she slipped past him toward the bathroom door. "I'll see you later," she said. "I love you."

"Taluhk nash-veh k'du,"(2) Spock replied softly with a nod.

~*~*~*~

Nyota, assuming her station behind the captain's chair and to its right, was aware the eyes of some bridge crewmembers on her. Chekhov, Sulu... They wanted to ask about Spock, but at the same time didn't want to intrude. And she wasn't sure what to say to them if they asked. She felt she had to defend Spock in the face of whatever came up, but at the same time, she knew he was deteriorating and she feared for him. So, she kept her back to the bridge and focused on her station, running unnecessary diagnostics and making nonessential scans of the local transmissions to keep herself occupied.

When the captain stepped onto the bridge, she acknowledged him, but otherwise remained silent. Nyota was grateful he didn't step over to chat. Instead he took his chair, running through superfluous, routine checks of the ship's status with the helms crew. It was extraneous work for him; he didn't need to do it; both Sulu and Chekhov were more than qualified to run status checks themselves. Like Spock, however, Kirk wasn't complete if he didn't do his job to the fullest extent, hit all the points, find value in even the smallest tasks. She admired them both for their belief that there were physical, mental and moral benefits to a job well done. In fact, she admitted, Kirk surprised her. Within the short period since he assumed captaincy of the _Enterprise_, he had set aside a large chunk of his boyish recklessness and was maturing into a fine fleet officer. When she had first met him -- in a bar in Iowa while she was still a cadet and he hadn't yet joined Starfleet -- she wouldn't have believed it possible.

_"I'm impressed… I thought you were just a dumb hick who only had sex with farm animals," she'd said to him._

_He'd replied with an inebriated grin, "Well... Not __only__."_

The silvery ear bud connected to her station pinged softly, and she set it firmly in her ear in order to hear the incoming transmission more clearly. "Captain," she said. "I'm picking up a transmission from the shuttlecraft _Rala_ (3). It's Ambassador Sarek, sir."

~*~*~*~

Spock kept Pa'shu with him as he went about his morning duties. Some crewmembers gawked at the large beast following the First Officer through the ship's corridors, stepping aside, ducking down adjacent hallways or climbing into service tubes to make room for it. In Engineering, while Spock ran diagnostics on the dilithium (4) chambers with Mister Scott -- who was still under the weather, but didn't want Mr. Spock tinkering with _'his bairns'_ without supervision -- some crewmen avoided the sehlat while others sought to interact with her and make her a mascot.

The animal enjoyed their attention, and responded with gleeful huffs when two engineers played a modified game of "catch" with her using a disk of insulation as a Frisbee. Pa'shu bounded along the lower deck, chasing and bumping the disk from its flight path with her muzzle in order to make it crash against a wall or into a console. Once downed, she scooped it up gently in her mouth and carried it back to the crewmen for another toss. Later, a female engineer applied an "Able Seaman" pip she had manufactured to Pa'shu's collar. Spock ignored the jocularity but appreciated that the sehlat was receiving the consideration she desired and deserved as an unofficial ambassador of her breed.

By oh-nine-fifty, Spock had to leave Engineering for his appointment with Dr. McCoy, for the follow-up scan on his pelvis. He intended to take Pa'shu to Medical with him, but some of the engineers protested her removal and Spock reconsidered. He decided to allow Pa'shu to remain in Engineering with the stern caveat that he expected the staff to complete their duties and assigned projects by the end of their shifts. If their tasks were not finished to his satisfaction, he would withhold their shore leave privileges until the work was done. They agreed, rushing off to their various assignments, each one encouraging Pa'shu to follow him or her. Pa'shu gave Spock's hand a nudge with her muzzle then loped off after a Junior-Grade Lieutenant with a joyful vlie.

~*~*~*~

When Spock entered the Medical Bay, Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel were at the main com-station talking to Captain Kirk.

"-- The Ambassador says his pilot, S'Risha, is having some kind of problem with her pregnancy," Kirk said over the link from the bridge.

"S'Risha," McCoy replied. "I remember her. Bright lady. She piloted the _Keswick_ when we were escaping from New Vulcan. I didn't know she'd been subjected to the Ek'tevan edict." (5)

"Well, she's now spotting and in quite a bit of pain. And for a Vulcan to admit they're in pain, you know it has to be pretty severe," Kirk said. "Even with the _Rala_ at full power, they're still a day away. The _Enterprise_ is a lot faster, and we could get to her within a few hours. I can pull our people from Jagusch-McGillis and we can rendezvous with the _Rala,_ and -- "

"That may not be necessary, Captain," Spock interjected. Both McCoy and Christine, startled by the unanticipated sound of his voice, turned to him. He continued, "The _Haulat_ is quite capable of making the journey. On short excursions, Sa'aat's vessel can match or even exceed the speed of the _Enterprise_. Perhaps Sa'aat would be willing to ferry a medical team to the _Rala_. That would allow the _Enterprise_ crew to continue with their shore leave, and provide time for the engineering teams to complete the maintenance checks required."

"Sounds like a good idea, Mister Spock. Thank you," the captain said with an appreciative smile.

"I can speak with Sa'aat as soon as my appointment with the doctor is completed," Spock said.

His head tilted and straightened up again. Kirk saw the movement, but said nothing about it.

"I can go look for him," Christine offered as an alternative. She glanced over to McCoy. "You do still know how to run bio scan without me, right?" she joked.

McCoy rolled his eyes, feigning offense, "I think I can manage, yes. Thank you, Nurse."

Christine chuckled, patted him on the shoulder, and said to the captain's image on the com-link before she left, "I'll let you know as soon as we're set."

"Thanks, Christine," the captain said before signing off.

McCoy turned to Spock. "Well, I guess you're with me. Come on. This won't hurt a bit."

"That is what you always say," Spock responded.

~*~*~*~

Christine scolded herself for her insistence on fetching Sa'aat. Anyone else could have done it; in fact, he might have been more receptive to the idea if Spock had asked him to make the run to the _Rala_. Still… Just thinking of the him and his glacial stare made her insides tickle, and caused rapturous sensations to trickle down the insides of her thighs to her feet. _Damn it_, she thought to herself. He'd gotten to her. For all his restraint and indifferent attitude towards Humans, and despite the fact she knew he was sa-ka-ashausu, Sa'aat had found his way under her skin. _Now, if he could find his way into my --_ She cut the thought off mid-stream_. Damn Vulcans and their damn handsome men... _

She found Sa'aat in the Shuttle Bay on top of a tall scaffold, as he finish scrubbing the _Haulat's_ living sheath with a concoction of mild soap and emollients. Sleeves rolled to his elbows showed off the cables of lean muscle running through his forearms.

"I need your ship for an ambulance run," she called to him from the framework's base.

Sa'aat, some of his long hair falling forward over his shoulder, stepped to the edge of the platform and looked down at her. He dried his hands on a towel as he stated, "There are medical teams on the planet." He pulled his sleeves back into place and fastened them.

"The patient isn't on the planet; she's on the _Rala_. It's S'Risha."

Sa'aat's eyebrows arched. "She is pregnant." He slid down the scaffold using the sides of his feet to slow his decent down the pipes, and walked toward her. While Christine tried to ignore the fact his movements alone were provocative, he asked, "Has there been some difficulty?"

"Apparently. She's spotting, and says she's in pain." Sa'aat disengaged the scaffolding from the _Haulat_ and as it drifted to a spot on the floor on the opposite side of the Shuttle Bay, Christine continued, "I didn't want to say anything in front of Spock, but... I was worried this sort of thing might happen."

"What _'sort of thing'_?" Sa'aat asked, wondering to himself again how Spock managed to tolerate working with and around beings so imprecise with their thoughts and verbiage.

"Problem pregnancies. None of us have a clue what was in that plak-tau inducing drug the males were given during the Ek'tevan Prerogative." Christine paused, frowning at him; Sa'aat often seemed to have more information than anyone else did. "We don't have a clue, do we?"

"No. The formula was secured beyond my clearance level."

"Okay, then. As I was saying: although it was never openly addressed, complications arising as a result of the drug's influence were always there."

"Speculation," Sa'aat said dismissively.

_Maddening bastard._ Christine hated -- and loved -- his quiet way of exerting power and control over a conversation with a single word. She said, "If the other women on New Vulcan are experiencing the sa--"

"Extrapolation," Sa'aat countered. To Christine's half-angry, half-aroused glare, he said, "Consider your facts, Nurse Chapel. You are basing your hypothesis on a solitary female having difficulties during her final trimester. Females in situations unrelated to the plak-tau inducement have had similar problems during pregnancies, have they not?"

"Well, yes."

"And have you received any transmissions from New Vulcan indicating other plak-tau females are experiencing similar complications?"

"No."

"Then let us not hasten to conclusions. There is no factual basis, as yet, on which to form a conjecture that the plak-tau inducement was in any way responsible for S'Risha's current condition, or that the pregnancies of the other females have in any way been compromised by the drug."

"It's still a possibility."

"A remote possibility at best," Sa'aat tilted his head. "Is it typical of Humans to dwell on worst-case scenarios rather than applying themselves to the most obvious and most uncomplicated course of action?"

"We do, as a species, tend to get ahead of ourselves, yeah. But mostly because, in our past, when we ignored the worst-case scenarios, they came to fruition and we weren't prepared for them."

"So you are predisposed to hyper-vigilance."

"Something like that, yes."

"I see," said Sa'aat.

"So, will you make the ambulance run for us?"

"I will assist, yes," Sa'aat said. He looked up at his ship and said, "_Haulat_ dator trashuik." (6) The _Haulat_ settled itself on the deck, and opened an access orifice through the skin on its side. Sa'aat stepped inside, activated some consoles, and then came back out, saying, "What experience do you have with Vulcan pregnancies?"

"Very little;" Christine admitted, "only what I've read in the manuals and practiced during simulations. Vulcans are pretty tight-lipped about sex and reproduction." She smiled at him.

Sa'aat remained expressionless, "These are matters of privacy. Nevertheless, I may be able to augment your knowledge."

_Yippee_, Christine thought, before telling her brain: _Down, Girl_.(7)

Sa'aat continued, "I can supply you with a primer on Vulcan parturiency, and aid you in putting together a suitable medical kit for neonatal emergencies."

"Bless you," Christine said. She leaned forward and pecked the Vulcan on the cheek.

For several seconds, Sa'aat stood silent, stunned. When he had recovered he said, "You do that on purpose."

"Do what?" Christine asked, feigning innocence.

"You deliberately use your Human wiles to attempt to keep me discomposed."

"Oh, as if you as a Vulcan could ever be _'discomposed'_," she swatted him playfully on the forearm.

"Why must Humans constantly engage in this intrusive and undesired physical contact?"

"Loosen up, Sa'aat," Christine quipped as she headed out of the Shuttle Bay toward the turbolift. "It's all in fun --" Besides, she liked touching him.

Sa'aat followed her. "Fun? Must everything be amusing to you?"

"Amusement makes the day brighter."

"Nonsense. Humor has no effect on illumination."

Christine stepped into the turbolift. "Why do you take everything so literally and so seriously?"

Sa'aat trailed after her. "I am a Vulcan. It is our way."

"And being humorous and inexact is the Human way. Medical Bay," she said to the elevator, and the lift headed in the proper direction. Christine added to Sa'aat, "If you're going to be around us a lot, you'd better get used to it. Spock has."

"Spock is younger and more – resilient – than I," he admitted.

"Maybe that's something you should work on," Christine smiled, "I can help, if you'd like." Sa'aat gave her a long steely look in reply.

~*~*~*~

When Nyota arrived at Spock's quarters for lunch, he and Pa'shu were already there. The sehlat was settled in her nest of blankets in the front room with a bowl of fresh fruit. She bit a grapefruit, causing juice to squirt all over the nearby wall and then used her broad flat tongue to clean the wall.

In the bedroom, Spock had a small lap tray with fruit salad, cheese and frozen yogurt for Nyota, but had nothing for himself. He wasn't particularly hungry he told her, taking a seat at the head of his bed with his back against the wall. Nyota didn't mind lunching in his bedroom; any time with him was a gift, but it concerned her a little bit that he had either been too distracted or too preoccupied to set up a table for them. Without a comment about the arrangements, she placed herself at the foot of the bed putting the tray between them, just in case he changed his mind and wanted to snack. Spock seemed distracted and unfocused, as though his mind was going in a dozen different directions at once. She could tell he wanted to say something, but was having difficulty finding the right words or the right avenue which to approach the subject. She didn't press him, waiting for him to direct the conversation.

"The _Haulat_ should have rendezvoused with the _Rala_ by this time," he finally said.

"Yes, probably," Nyota said over a mouthful of the yogurt. She swallowed. "I hope S'Risha is all right. I liked her."

"Vulcan women are very adaptable, and most often recover quickly from any malady. Child-bearing is usually quite manageable for them," Spock said as though quoting a medical journal. His head canted slightly to the right, then went upright again. He then focused on Nyota and added, "We spoke briefly this morning about the possibility of children."

"Yes."

"Do you want children?"

Spock had never asked her directly, and Nyota was taken aback. She grinned and blurted out an unrehearsed, "With you, yes. Tons," and smiled.

"Vulcans seldom have more than two offspring in a lifetime," Spock said, his own tone flat.

"I know." Vulcan families tended to be small. Because they came from a desert environment that did not support an overly large population, Vulcans were taught that having multiple offspring was uncouth and repulsive. (8) However, Nyota knew Spock didn't strictly conform to the will of his society, and, she said, "I also know some Vulcans, when living away from their homeworld, have larger families."

"Occasionally," Spock admitted, looking out the bedside portal into the star field outside the ship. "And with our population in its present imbalance -- with females largely outnumbering males -- and the current push to procreate rapidly in order to reestablish our race, multiple births may become not only a necessity, but the new norm for my people..." He looked back at Nyota, "We have yet to speak in detail about the subject, but in the wake of the Ek'tevan Prerogative and the prospect that several females to whom I was bred may be pregnant, I believe we need to discuss the possibility I may already be a father."

"Yes," Nyota agreed. "What do you think about that? The possibility of having children by those women?"

"I am torn," Spock admitted, his head tilting briefly. "On the one hand, I resent having paternity thrust upon me in such a fashion; I do not know or hold any affection for the women of the edict. On the other hand, I cannot, in good conscience, condemn the children of the edict for the loathsome happenstance of their conception. Therefore, I am reft between a desire to be done with the women and bond more fully to you, and a desire to do my duty as a father to any child that may be born of my blood. Can you understand this?"

"Of course, Spock. I can't imagine how difficult this must all be for you."

"Some of the immediate burden may be negated if I could, with your permission, seek the identities of the women and discover if any of them became pregnant."

"No one's told you anything yet?"

"No."

Nyota bit her bottom lip. She didn't want to keep what she knew from Spock, but had been told by the captain and the others to withhold information from him until everyone could get together and speak to Spock as a group. She wasn't sure how he might react if he discovered she already knew the plak-tau women's identities; and if she was honest with herself, she was somewhat afraid of his strength should he become angry or upset. He just wasn't himself, lately; so she said instead, "Sa'aat can probably get you that information."

"Yes, that was my conclusion as well. May I have your permission to proceed?"

"Absolutely, Spock. You didn't really have to ask my permission."

"K'diwa, any question regarding my genetic offspring concerns you as well. If there are children of mine that are not ours, I want to know what you think and how you feel about that."

"I don't know what I feel, Spock. It seems surreal right now, you know," Nyota said honestly. "I mean, I know you were subjected to the edict; I even saw some of what happened..."

Spock turned away, as though embarrassed.

Nyota, setting her lunch aside, reached out to put a tentative hand on his arm and continued, "-- But through all of it, I never doubted you; I never doubted your feelings for me and the commitment you've made to me, to us." She caressed his arm to his hand, wishing she could _read_ him. "Sometimes I think that trying to anticipate everything is counterproductive, you know? You get so caught up in the '_what ifs'_ that you don't pay attention to what's really happening around you. In something like this, I guess... I'll just follow your lead, be as supportive of you as I can and take the rest of it -- if there is any more to it -- as it comes along."

Spock turned to her and for the first time since she had met him, she saw actual tears standing in his dark eyes. She had seen him on the brink of such a display before, but never like this. Vulcan tears were rare, not only because Vulcans refrained from outwardly expressing emotion, but also because their desert-born bodies were loathe to giving up life-sustaining fluid in such a non-essential way. For Spock to be moved to such a display, he must have been under tremendous internal stress. The idea both distressed and terrified her.

Spock half-lowered his eyelids to hide the wateriness and muttered in a ragged voice, "Please, excuse me." His head fell slightly to the right and then up again.

Nyota, stirred by compassion against her fears, wrapped her arms around him. Vulcans didn't like to speak about uncomfortable things -- like emotions and self-doubts -- they felt paying attention to such thing gave them a strength and focus they shouldn't have. So Nyota remained silent. Spock didn't cry, his body and breath never shuddered with sobs and the tears didn't fall from his eyes, but he leaned against her and let her support him for a few moments. Along with his physical weight, his emotional weight was palpable. Nyota put a hand into his hair and stroked the back of his head and neck. "Spock," she whispered against his elongated ear. "My Spock…"

He turned his face to her and kissed her, firmly and deeply, once and then once again, their lips clinging to one another briefly before parting. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment and sighed. When he sat back, he was himself once more, poised and self-contained. The tears were gone, absorbed unshed into his body.

"Your yogurt is melting," he said softly.

"That's okay. I like it that way," Nyota said, smiling at him.

~*~*~*~

Sa'aat flew the _Haulat_ to the _Rala_ in record-setting time, and rather than sitting in space while McCoy examined S'Risha, Sa'aat beamed the _Rala's_ passengers and crew aboard the _Haulat_, engaged the tractor beam and headed back toward the _Enterprise_ as quickly as possible. Dr. McCoy had been concerned about beaming the pregnant woman from the shuttle, but Sa'aat had proceeded without waiting for his approval, and S'Risha seemed grateful to be out of the smaller vehicle.

She was much as McCoy remembered her: self-assured and sedate despite her current pain and the obvious staining of her clothing by her green blood; but her distended belly was new. When he had seen her last, her pregnancy wasn't showing. "Were all you gals subjected to the edict?" he asked.

S'Risha didn't need him to explain himself. "All of us who were both fit and in-cycle were bound by law to participate in the induced plak-taus."

"I feel like someone should apologize to you for that."

"There is no need. Given the current circumstances of our species, being pressed into reproductive service was an inevitability. Whether the demand came earlier or later, it still would have come. Now that the child is developing," she stroked her belly with one hand, "I am less averse to the idea of maternity."

"Well, I really admire you for that," McCoy said. He looked back at Sarek and the male pilot, a Vulcan named Gilgreni (9). "We're going to need some privacy. So, if you don't mind: vamoose!"

Not fully understanding the directive, but accepting the gist of it, the male Vulcans took the turbolift up to the command level of the _Haulat_, where Sa'aat was busy piloting the ship. Christine unpacked the medical gear, making it ready for McCoy's use. Before turning on the medical scanner, however, McCoy employed the old-fashioned technique of palpating S'Risha's abdomen. "On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, where is your pain level right now?" McCoy asked.

"An eight," she said, although he wouldn't have been able to tell from her voice or her expression. She wasn't wincing or sweating, and her eyes were calm. _Amazing beings, these Vulcans,_ McCoy thought to himself, _and what a nightmare they must be for their doctors: internalizing everything, loathe to speak to their discomfort._ He pressed lightly on a spot, "Does that hurt?"

"Yes -- "

"More or less than before?"

"Slightly more... an eight-point-one."

"Okay," McCoy withdrew his hand and accepted a scanner from Christine. "This won't hurt a bit. I promise."

The preliminary readings were not good.

~*~*~*~

"I didn't know what to do, Dr. Surrey," Nyota said even before she had taken a seat in his office later that afternoon. "I didn't know what to say. He mentioned Sybok, and then asked me point-blank about seeking the plak-tau women's identities, and... I hate lying to him." She turned to the doctor and clutched his forearm. She knew she should report what she saw to him, but also felt a responsibility to protect Spock's privacy. "There's something else, and I'm not sure I should tell you about it."

"Will you're not telling me put Spock in danger?"

"I don't know... Maybe..."

"Then tell me."

"He almost started crying at one point. Tears filled his eyes and... And even though a part of me would love to see him emote, I know Vulcans don't do that unless... unless..." She couldn't finish the sentence; there was no way to complete it without verbalizing a fear or making a detrimental inference about Spock's sanity. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, the first thing to do, right at this moment, is to sit," Dr. Surrey said, allowing her to choose whichever seat in the room she preferred.

Nyota took a deep breath, sat on the sandy-colored couch and pulled a pillow onto her lap to give herself something to clutch. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just feeling so --- " She stuck her tongue out and put her open hands to either side of her head, mimicking a motion that suggested her skull was going to explode.

"No need to apologize. In fact, you don't have to apologize for anything you say or do in this room. How's that for neat?" Surrey said with a touch of becalming humor. As was his norm when he saw patients, Surrey was dressed in the standard uniform black undershirt and pants, but not his Science Blues or the black boots. Instead, he wore soft loafers and had a long-sleeved, un-ironed, unbuttoned flannel shirt that flapped and trailed after him as he moved around the room. He shut off some PADDs on his desk and then turned the tartan-plaid chair to face Nyota before sitting in it. "Okay," he said, slapping his thighs. "I'm all yours."

Nyota hugged the pillow against her stomach. "What can I do for him, Doc? It kills me to see him deteriorating like this. He's struggling so hard to keep a grip on himself."

"I understand you love Spock, but you have to keep in mind it's not your job to hold him together; it's not your job to pull onto yourself whatever burdens he may be carrying. Your job is to take care of Nyota." He could tell from her expression she was already rejecting his advice, and he quickly added, "I know, I know, that sounds like psycho-pabulum to you."

"You're right. You're telling me I have to take care of myself so I can take care of him… Blah-blah-blah. I know that line, and it's not helpful."

"I appreciate your honesty," Surrey said truthfully. "You get right to the point… So, let me do the same. Whether you find the 'line' helpful or not, it's accurate. You can't help Spock if you're falling to pieces or caught up in your own mental litter. You can support him, and you can guide him, but you can't fix him, you can't carry his troubles for him. He has to do that work for himself. And he is trying to do just that. He contacted me earlier and set up an appointment with me at the end of his duty shift today. So, let's allow Spock to deal with Spock, and you deal with you."

"He had a dream last night," Nyota said. "It wasn't like the others. He wouldn't tell me about it, but... I could tell it wasn't a nightmare. It was something else."

_She's deflecting; trying to put the focus back onto Spock. _"And how did you sleep last night?"

"Pretty good," Nyota said, shrugging, releasing the pillow a bit. "I waited until he went back to sleep before I drifted off myself; and I was up before he got out of bed."

"Is that unusual?"

"It's not unusual for me to get up early, no; but it is unusual for him to sleep in. He never does that."

_She's still focusing on him. _"Maybe his body just needed the rest."

"I guess."

"And what do you need?"

"Answers. Guidance. And about fifty gallons of whiskey."

_Atta girl!_ "I may be able to help you with the answers and guidance stuff, but I'm not allowed to prescribe alcohol."

"Damn it, you're no fun," Nyota said in jest.

"Yeah, well…" Dr. Surrey put his hands up in defeat. "What can I say?"

"So, Doc… What answers do you have for me?"

"Well, before I can give you the full benefit of my prodigious knowledge," Surrey said with a self-mocking smile, "I'd like to ask you a few questions and get some answers myself, if that's okay with you."

"Do I get to charge for the answers I provide, like you do?"

"I get to charge for this?" Surrey joked, looking around the room.

Nyota laughed lightly. Her body seemed to relax a bit. "What did you want to ask me?"

"You're a handsome woman; you're bright, articulate, nurturing, funny... I'd dare say you've had dozens, if not hundreds, of men pursuing you. Why then, out of all of them, did you choose Spock?"

"Because I love him," her tone and expression implied the answer should have been obvious.

"A man who, by his very nature, suppresses everything he feels?"

"See, people get that wrong all the time," Nyota said leaning over the pillow. "Spock is not emotionless. He shows me what he's feeling all the time. You just have to pick up on his cues; that's all."

"So, he was an intellectual challenge to you. You had to learn how to decipher him -- like one of your languages. "

"He was never just an intellectual exercise to me," Nyota said, leaning back and gripping the edge of the pillow. "I love him; we're a good match."

"Really? How so?"

"He is... handsome, and bright, and articulate, and nurturing, and funny," Nyota said, echoing Surrey's words back at him.

"A _funny_ Vulcan?"

"Yes, funny. Spock has a marvelous sense of humor. Most people just don't bother to look for it."

"Are you defending him? Or are you defending your reasons for being with him?"

"Neither," Nyota said, acknowledging, even as the word escaped her mouth, that she was doing both. "I don't have to defend anything." Her face pinched in a frown. "Quit using your psycho-stuff on me."

"Using my _psycho-stuff_ is my job, Nyota. If you didn't want a psychiatrist, you could have gone to the MD's or a botanist or someone else. You came to me because you wanted to talk to a psychiatrist."

"-- About Spock; not about myself."

"Well, that's the interesting thing about psychiatry: you see, even when you think you're talking to me about Spock, you're not talking about him; you're talking about you." When Nyota's scowl tightened, Surrey explained, "Everything you say and feel in reference to him is always within the confines of your experiences, your values, your perceptions. You're talking about what you want, what you see, what you need, what your concerns are. And that's okay. By telling me that, I get a better understanding of who you are and how you relate to Spock. Once I have that information, I'm better able to provide you with some answers and guidance that might help you interact with him and support him in ways beneficial to you both. But we can get to that point quicker if you talk to me about yourself."

"You could have just said that in the first place," Nyota said, her face and grip on the pillow unclenching.

"Yeah, I could've, but I'm a psychiatrist. Talking in circles is -- kind of my 'thing'." Dr. Surrey sat back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. "So. Tell me about you."

~*~*~*~

McCoy closed the medical scanner and handed it back to Christine. S'Risha looked him over and concluded, "Your expression does not bode well."

"Yeah, I was never very good at poker."

"Poker?"

"It's a card game, uh, played for gambling purposes. One technique used in the game is to bluff your opponents into miscalculating how good your hand is -- um, the value of the cards you're holding at any point in the game -- by employing what's called a _'poker face,'_ a forced, unrevealing stoicism."

"A 'Vulcan' face -- " S'Risha said.

"Yeah, something like that," McCoy smiled. "You're a natural! But I'm not very good at it."

"That is quite true," S'Risha stated, meaning no disrespect. "So, what is the diagnosis?"

"It looks like the beginnings of a _placental abruption_ caused by _placenta previa_. Do you know what that means?"

S'Risha shook her head. "I am a pilot, not a doctor," she said, paraphrasing what he had said to her during their last encounter.(10)

McCoy chuckled. "Is that Vulcan humor?"

"An attempt. How did I do?"

"Pretty good, actually," McCoy said with a grin. He really liked this gal, he thought to himself. He wished he had better news for her. Serious again, he said, "Let me see if I can explain it to you. In a normal pregnancy, the placenta -- I think it's called the _flutash_ in your language -- attaches itself near the top of the uterus -- the, uh, _sudef_. In your case, the _flutash_ attached itself to the lower portion of the _sudef_. That's what we Human doctors refer to as _placenta previa_. Now, because of the placement of the Vulcan heart," McCoy pointed to where a Human's liver would be, "Vulcan women tend to carry their babies lower Human women. It's not uncommon for the _flutash_ to attach itself to a spot in the _sudef_ that's lower than it might be in a Human. The problem with this placement, however, is the fact that there are more blood vessels in the lower part of the _sudef_, and as the fetus develops and drops, and the _flutash_ stretches, it tends to press on these vessels, causing bleeding. The spotting we're seeing is consistent with that kind of a bleed. By itself, that wouldn't be too worrisome; bed rest can help to alleviate the pressure. However, in your case, it's a bit more complicated."

"I see. Continue."

"In your case, the _flutash_ is starting to tear away from the _sudef_. That's what we call _placental abruption_."

"Is it dangerous?"

"It can be; for both you and the fetus. If the _flutash_ tears away any further from the _sudef_ than it already has, the pain and bleeding will get worse, and the fetus will be deprived of the nutrition and oxygen it needs to survive. If there's enough blood loss, it can also cause you to go into shock. Your organs would shut down, and both you and the fetus would be in jeopardy. We'd have to deliver it by Cesarean Section, or have it beamed from your body, and then do what we could to keep you alive."

"The fetus is not yet fully developed. It has only been seven months and nine days. If you had to remove it, it would be premature."

"Yes. Your fetus currently weighs eight-hundred and ninety-eight grams; not quite two pounds. If I were your doctor, I would have told you months ago to start eating more and fattening that kid up. By the way, I can tell you if it's a boy or a girl, if you'd like to know. Then we won't have to keep referring to it as 'it'."

"Tell me…"

"It's – he's a male."

S'Risha looked away for a moment but McCoy wasn't sure if it was because she was getting emotional, or if it was because she had a moment of pain. Either one wasn't good news for a Vulcan. "I suspected as much," she said, looking back at him. "With females currently outnumbering males, many of us suspected that the majority of the children born of the Ek'tevan Prerogative would be males."

"Nature's way of restoring the gender-balance in your population."

"Yes. So if he were born premature, what would happen to him?

"As it is, if we had to deliver him now, he would have a rough go of it. His lungs aren't finished developing yet, so he'd have to be put on supplemental oxygen and a respirator. He lacks body fat, so he would be highly susceptible to any kind of a chill, which means he would also have to be placed in an incubator to keep his core temperature up. Because his body is still growing rapidly, he would require special nutrition to keep up with his developmental needs. And there's a whole array of other possible post-natal problems that could crop up: liver failure, jaundice, anemia, apnea, nervous system disorders, heart problems. So, we don't want this baby to be born premature if we can help it. The longer he can stay in your body, the better his chances are of surviving its birth." (11)

"What can be done then?"

"We need to keep the placenta, the _flutash_, from disengaging further. No more flying around the galaxy or fighting the good fight until after Junior is born. And you'll need to let me -- or your favorite Vulcan doctor -- keep an eye on you through the rest of your pregnancy to make sure everything continues on course from here."

"There are no Vulcan doctors presently available to me. They are all on New Vulcan, and I, along with the other Fonn Vuhlkansu, relinquished my citizenship when we fled that planet seven months ago. I would be pleased and honored, Dr. McCoy, if you would assign yourself to my case."

"Okay, then. First order: You're going to be confined to a bed until I say otherwise. And I'll see if I can't work some gravitational magic with the biobed to keep your _flutash_ from moving, and keep pressure off the lower part of your _sudef_."

"Magic?"

"Well, it's not magic, but I'm pretty damn fantastic with a biobed, if I do say so myself."

S'Risha looked to Christine for confirmation. Christine grinned and said, "You'd be amazed at what he's come up with for his patients. You're in good hands, honey. Don't worry."

S'Risha nodded, and looked back to McCoy. "One more question -- ?"

"Sure."

"What is a _'junior'_?"

On the _Haulat's _bridge, the communications nodule signaled an in-coming transmission. Sa'aat glanced at Sarek, who recognized the signal, and then opened a channel saying, "Sa'aat, la'. Stariben."

A female voice through the com-link replied in Vulcan. "Ki'afer-tor T'pau etek."

"Wilat ha?"

"Sv'i eshikh ish-veh; sv'i ne-solektra tauk."

"Tan-tor t'nash-veh kethellar."

"Sasaya palikaya."(12)

Sa'aat waited for the coordinates to transmit then pulled a copy onto a small, tubular communications device that looked like cigarette lighter, which he slipped into a loop at the waistband of his trousers. He paused for a moment before facing Sarek again. Sarek said nothing, and in his silence Sa'aat suggested dispassionately, "Let me deal with it. Your hands must be kept clean."

"If there is a child -- "

"No danger will come to any child of Spock from my hand."

Sarek thought for a moment, and then gave Sa'aat a nod of unspoken approval.

~*~*~*~

"Over the next few days and weeks, things are going to get harder for Spock -- and for you. And I'm going to ask you to walk quite a tightrope on Spock's behalf," Dr. Surrey continued.

"What do you mean?" Nyota asked with a slight frown.

"You have a strong personality, Nyota. That's part of what made you attractive to Spock; he admires that in you. But for right now, he may need you to curb it a bit so he can feel strong within himself. You're going to want to be doubly strong for him, to shelter him, hold him and defend him. Those are all facets of your character. You're the idealist-teacher type; what, in psychobabble, we sometimes refer to as an _'enfudge_' or an _ENFJ_.(13) But you have to be careful. Too much power from you may make Spock feel emasculated. Too much sheltering and holding, even with the best of intentions, may make him feel as though you're mollycoddling him, treating him like a child; and as much as he may want that, he may also resent it."

Nyota mumbled, more to herself than to the doctor, "I have to be like Amanda."

"You have to be like his mother in her love for and understanding of him, yes," Dr Surrey said. "But I don't want you 'mothering' him. He's going to need you to be there; but more importantly, for his recovery, he's going to need you to let him get back to the point where he can stand on his own and face what's happened to him.

"So, how do I help him do that?"

"By playing a kind of psychological ping-pong."

Nyota shook her head, confused. "What -- ?"

"One minute Spock may need you to hold him, and two seconds later he may need you to back off," Dr. Surrey explained. "One minute he might want to touch you, and the next minute he might feel he never wants to touch another person for as long as he lives. He may want to express his anger with one breath, and with the next, stuff all his rage back into himself. Back-and-forth. Ping-pong. Get it?"

"I think so... a little bit."

"In some respects, his recovery is going to be as hard on you as it is on him. You have to prepare for just about anything. Sex, for example, will be tricky. Spock may want you one moment, not want you the next, and then want you again five minutes later. Don't press the issue with him, but at the same time don't assume he doesn't want to be touched. Take your cues from him and be willing to go with whatever his needs are, even if they change from instant to instant."

"That sounds awfully complicated."

"It is. And it will probably get a lot more complicated before it gets easier. Spock's dealing with a variety of issues here, and we're just focusing on the aftermath of rape right now. He also has loss and grief to deal with, humiliation, and survivor's guilt, physiological pressures caused by the loss of his homeworld, hallucinations and nightmares. In the case of Vulcans, it's quite possible their own innate propensity to suppress emotions may make things even more difficult and dangerous for Spock. Imagine having this knot of emotional stuff inside of you, and coming from a culture that tells you to leave the knot alone. All of us -- me, you, the captain, Spock -- we're all treading on uncertain ground here. So, we're going to have to tread carefully."

"It seems overwhelming."

"It can be. But don't look at the big picture; let me do that. You just take things minute by minute, item by item. Think of it as solving a huge math problem: it's scrawled all over the whiteboard, there are arguments piled on top of arguments, A equals X, Y to the fifth power... the whole shebang. If you try to wrap your brain around the whole formula at once, you can get immediately overwhelmed. You have to remind yourself that, regardless of the length of the calculation, you're always working with just two numbers at a time. This plus this, that minus that. Eventually, the whole thing gets solved; you just attack bit by bit."

"And what two numbers do I start with, Doc?" Nyota asked.

"Spock will let you know. Actually, since he brought up the issue of the plak-tau women, that's obviously calculation-one for him. Go with that. When that gets solved, we can go on to the next one."

Nyota sighed deeply, and nodded. "Okay," she said.

"Further down the line, I may also want joint sessions with both you and Spock. Are you up for that?"

"Sure. Whatever he needs."

Dr. Surrey paused for a moment then said as something else occurred to him. "Oh, before I forget. He'll probably get around to telling you himself, if he hasn't done so already, but Spock made you his medical proxy. That means that if he's ever physically or mentally incapacitated and unable to make decisions for himself, you get to call the shots about his medical and psychiatric treatment."

"I know what it means, I'm just…" Nyota said, dropping her hands to the sofa cushions. "I can't believe he's thinking in those terms. I mean, I've been assuming all along that he'd just get well, y'know? If he's thinking about the possibility of not recovering, then… That can't good, can it?"

"It depends on the individual. Spock is the kind of man who always thinks ahead, likes to cover his bases. This isn't necessarily an indication that he's anticipating 'failure'; it may just be an indication that he's efficient… Can you handle it, being his proxy?"

"Yes, I think so. I'll have to. So, yeah."

"Good. Keep that _can-do_ attitude. Spock's going to need to trust you implicitly and feel that you're in his corner, no matter what."

"I am in his corner, no matter what," Nyota said, somewhat defensively.

"The idealist in you says that now, but, Nyota, what if he decides that he wants to return to New Vulcan and be a father to the kids he may have produced?" Dr. Surrey challenged her. "What if he decides he can't bear to look at you anymore because you saw him at his weakest, and every moment he's with you is a reminder of that weakness? What if he goes off the deep end and it takes him years to recover? What if he never recovers at all? In order for you to be the helpmate he needs, you need to ask yourself every one of those tough questions and answer them truthfully. All of the ugly _what ifs_… Can you do that?"

Nyota didn't even have to think before she responded, "Yes. I can."

~*~*~*~

When they arrived at the _Enterprise_, the _Haulat_ towed the _Rala_ into the Shuttle Bay where an emergency medical team was in position with a gurney. Once Sa'aat and Gilgreni placed S'Risha on the gurney, McCoy, Christine and the rest of the team rushed her to the Medical Bay, leaving the Vulcans to fend for themselves. Captain Kirk galloped in moments later, giving the Vulcans his breathless apologies for being late, and explaining that Spock would have met them, but he was in a meeting. Kirk shook hands with Sarek and Gilgreni and nodded at Sa'aat. "Well, first things first; you'll need to report to Medical for a quarantine check and then I'll find you some quarters and something to eat if you're hungry."

"Have you no crewmen who can perform these tedious tasks for you, Captain?" Gilgreni asked.

"On the _Enterprise_, we have the tendency to believe no job is menial. I think if you're too stuck up to clean a toilet, you need to clean a lot of them, know what I mean?"

Gilgreni simply looked at him.

Kirk shrugged it off saying, "Besides, I like greeting guests; it lets me practice my hosting duties. This way, gentlemen," he said, gesturing in the appropriate direction. "If you please."

~*~*~*~

Spock deliberately avoided conversation about Nyota's earlier meeting with Dr. Surrey and kept his comments and questions focused on his dream from the night before. He stood near the shelves holding the miniature figures, somewhat pleased to discover the Vulcan figurines were as he had previously arranged them: in a parade line across the front of the otherwise cluttered shelf. The Evil Queen however, was missing from her perch, and Spock wondered what had become of her. He covertly looked around the room for her. The fact that she had disappeared was a bit disconcerting, but he did not press the matter.

Dr. Surrey had seated himself in the tartan-plaid chair and watched Spock without comment for several minutes, letting the Vulcan reacquaint himself with the room and find a spot he felt comfortable in -- as comfortable as he could be, given the circumstances. In his notes, Dr. Surrey mentioned that Spock looked rather pallid and drawn. Rather than challenging the doctor with postures and body language, he seemed to have shrunk into himself, moving around the room like a disembodied spirit. Although he was clean and well-groomed, sehlat hair clung to his trousers -- something Spock would not have tolerated and would have carefully removed before -- and he had acquired an unconscious tic from somewhere: the odd habit of canting his head to one side for no apparent reason; his head tilted, then quickly going level again without any obvious cause.

"Does your head hurt, Mister Spock?" Surrey asked finally.

Spock gave him a slight, confused scowl, "No, Doctor. I am in no pain whatsoever." He tipped his head and straightened it again.

"How did your scan with McCoy go earlier -- if you don't mind my asking?"

"Dr. McCoy was unable to discover any medical cause for my pelvic discomfort. I have, therefore, chosen to block the input, as I assume it is erroneous."

"You 'blocked the input'?"

"Yes, Doctor. I have set my mind the task of ignoring the signals emanating from my pelvis," Spock explained.

_He's got the flow wrong_, Dr. Surrey thought to himself. _The signals aren't going from his body to his brain; they're radiating from his brain to his body. It's unlike him to make such an incorrect assessment__. _Although he didn't like it when his patients diagnosed themselves, Surrey was curious as to whether Spock had a scientific answer for the dysfunction. "What do you think may have caused the flawed signals?"

"I do not know." Spock's head titled once more, and straightened immediately. "Perhaps it is psychosomatic."

"That's possible, yes," Dr. Surrey allowed. "But a psychosomatic reaction would suggest there is an unresolved emotional issue. When the brain can't find an answer to a deeply disturbing emotional puzzle, it often manifests that frustration as a disruption in the body's energy fields; and the outward actualization of that disruption is sometimes a symptom like a tic, a compulsion, or some undefined pain. When you block the pain with your mind, you're blocking just the errant signals and not rectifying the underlying cause."

"I am aware of the implications, Doctor," Spock said with a hint of pique. "I did not say I had cured myself. I simply stated I had blocked the flawed transmissions."

"When you shut off one channel, the mind usually finds another," Surrey suggested.

"What are you inferring?" Spock asked.

_He's not consciously aware of the tic, or of the fact that his mind has found another outlet for its distress._ Dr. Surrey shook his head slowly. "I'm just making an observation."

Spock picked up one of the Vulcan figures and held it in his closed fist as he walked around the room. "I did not come here to talk about my medical appointment," he said. His head canted briefly again and then came upright.

"All right. What did you want to talk about?"

"I had an odd dream last night."

"Odd in what way?"

"It was unlike any I have had since leaving New Vulcan."

"How was it unlike the others?"

"It had no nightmarish quality. I was not afraid in the dream, even though I was in unfamiliar territory and faced with what might seem to others to be a rather formidable and ominous figure."

"Tell me about it -- this figure."

"It was entrenched in darkness; all film and shadow; black on black. I could not see its features, but I was certain it was a male." Spock unconsciously lifted the Vulcan figure to his mouth and tapped its head against his lips, "I had read Johnson's dissertation that a 'Shadow' figure can appear in dreams. Could this creature have been such a thing?"

_Interesting; he equated the figure with a Shadow and not with Death. That suggests he's still searching and receptive, rather than fatalistic. _"What do you think?"

"I requested confirmation from you," Spock said, annoyed.

"I know you did," Surrey purposely acknowledging the truth of Spock's statement without answering the question. "But I can't confirm the identity or meaning of anything in your dreams because your dreams come from you. They're creations of your mind. Only you can make a proper identification of the beings appearing in them. We touched on that before, remember?"

"Somewhat --"

To help the Vulcan out a bit, Surrey added, "However, what you've described sounds like it could be a Shadow figure to me."

"And Shadows," Spock started walking again, "can be projections of the Unconscious, correct?"

"In Jungian psychology (14), yes. Freud had a little different take on it. According to Jungian theory, the Shadow is the part of the mind holding all the junk the Conscious mind can't or won't deal with: doubts, fears, excuses, unfinished tasks, weaknesses, instinctive reactions... But it can also hold some really great stuff such as qualities in ourselves we haven't acted on, or things we haven't yet acknowledged within ourselves. It often manifests as an archetypal image, different from but connected to the Persona, Anima or Animus."

"The Persona being the personification of the corporeal Self or ego, and the Anima being the personification of the Spiritual Self."

"Something like that, yeah." _He's done his homework._

"Is the Shadow always dark?"

"Not always, but most of the time. Some people see their Shadow as a darker-than-dark image, some see it as a person with dark skin or dark hair, or a person dressed in dark clothes. Jung also believed the less integrated the Shadow was within the conscious mind, the darker and more dense it could appear. It can be a very frightening figure; but once integrated, it loses some of its formidable quality and is more approachable."

"This creature was quite 'approachable', as you say. Despite its nebulous properties, I felt compelled to engage it."

"That sounds great! If it was a Shadow in your dream, being able to face it and speak with it, is usually an indication the mind is working overtime to amalgamate and balance itself."

Spock looked encouraged by that possibility. His chin lifted; his eyes brightened. The display was very non-Vulcan, but at this point Dr. Surrey didn't care. He just wanted Spock to be focused and determined in his own recovery. "So," the doctor said, patting the unoccupied blue chair across from him, "tell me more about this dream."

Still clutching the toy Vulcan in one hand, Spock perched himself on the edge of the blue chair.

* * *

(1)** Asal rom ish-veh, k'diwa**: Translated from the Vulcan it means "good morning, beloved"; more literally it means "morning good it is, beloved". **Author's note**: The Vulcan Language Dictionary (VLD) suggests that "good morning" in Vulcan is "Ha'tha ti'lu", but that phrase was actually written for a FanFic story so I don't know how valid it is. My "good morning" is taken directly from Vulcan words "asal" (morning), "rom (good) and "ish-veh" (it is).

(2)**Taluhk nash-veh k'du**: This is listed in the VLD and other Vulcan reference materials as a way of saying "I cherish thee", so I'm using it, even though I don't think it's grammatically correct. It's also written in some texts as _Taluhk nash-veh k'dul__ar__,_ but that phrasing suggests it's being used in reference to more than one person, rather than "you"-singular.

(3) **Rala**: the Vulcan word for "wing".

(4) **Dilithium**: According to Trek canon _"...[D]ilitium Li__2__, is a diatomic molecule comprising two lithium atoms covalently bonded together. Li__2__ is known in the gas phase. It has a bond order of 1, an internuclear separation of 267.3 pm and a bond energy of 101 kJ mol__−1__."_ It looks rather like a large quartz crystal and can range in color from white to rose. According to the Memory Alpha site: _"...[A]lso known as __**radan**__ is an element, a member of the hypersonic series, mostly occurring as crystalline mineral. It is used to power the warp drive systems of many starships. Dilithium regulates the matter/antimatter reaction in a ship's warp core because of its ability to be rendered porous to light-element antimatter when exposed to high temperatures and pressures. It controls the amount of power generated in the reaction chamber, channeling the energy released by mutual annihilation into a stream of electro-plasma."_

(5) **S'Risha**: She appeared in my first story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_ along with her life-partner T'Kela. The two women were/are part of the Fonn Vuhlkansu and loyal to Sarek. When McCoy, Uhura, Spock and the Vulcans they had rescued all fled New Vulcan in the Federation shuttlecraft _Keswick_, S'Risha piloted the shuttlecraft so McCoy could tend to Spock. S'Risha is younger than Sarek, but older than Spock.

(6) _**Haulat**_** dator trashuik**: translated from the Vulcan it means, "_Haulat_, prepare for departing."

(7) I have to give credit to my beta **Farstrider** for this little line. It made me laugh, too. Thank you!

(8) **Small families:** This is based loosely on Trek canon, and also on the "Introduction to Vulcan Physiology" at the Star Trek Geekipedia, which reads, in part: _"...Twinning is very rare in Vulcans, probably as a consequence of evolving on a planet where scarce resources would favor only survival of one infant at a time. Fraternal twins are exceedingly rare, whereas identical twins are the norm. Multiple births beyond three are unheard of. The idea of giving birth to multiple children is considered repugnant to most Vulcans and may be innate. It is unknown how long Vulcan females remain fertile, although it is believed that it lasts well into maturity. Vulcan women on T'Khasi rarely have more than two children in a lifetime, unless they need to replace a child that died, but Vulcans on colony worlds are known to have as many as five children..."_

(9) **Gilgreni**: he's a male Vulcan who is a member of the Fonn Vuhlkansu, and who stood in support of Spock in my previous story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_. His name isn't patterned after the Vulcan norm of using "T", "S" or "V" as the first letter, but was generated by a Vulcan Name Calculator available on-line. I'm sure he has some odd background story that would explain his name, but I haven't gotten into his character much yet... Maybe in the next story.

(10) **Paraphrasing**: In my original story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_ when McCoy and the other were escaping from New Vulcan, he had said to S'Risha, _"In all honesty, Miss, I'm a doctor, not a fighter pilot. If things get ugly up here, I don't know how effective I'll be in the command chair." _In this story, she's kind of turning his words around and handing them back to him; her attempt at Vulcan humor.

(11) **Medical information**: all of the information here about placenta previa, placental abruption and preemies is from a variety of medical websites including but not limited to: The American Pregnancy Association, Google Health, Mayo Clinic(dot)com and others. THE INFORMATION PROVIDED IS FOR STORY-TELLING PURPOSES ONLY AND IS NOT TO BE USED TO DIAGNOSE OR TREAT ANY REAL MEDICAL CONDITION. (You know that, I'm sure, but I thought I should add the warning anyway.)

(12) **Vulcan conversation:** from the Vulcan this conversation translates as follows: Sa'aat: _Sa'aat, here. Speak._ Voice Over: _We have found T'Pau._ Sa'aat: _Where?_ Voice Over: _In the desert, in an underground cave._ Sa'aat: Give _me the coordinates._ Voice Over: _Transmission commencing_.

(13) **ENFJ**: On the Myers-Briggs test of personality types an ENFJ is an **E**xtroverted I**n**tuitive **F**eeling and **J**udging type. According to this theory, ENFJ's _"... seek continuity through harmonious relationships and collective values. They excel at picking up on the tone of a situation and acting accordingly, adding warmth to a cool setting or turning sour into sweet. They naturally seek to know what people do well, what they enjoy, and where and how they work. They seem to have an infinite number of acquaintances from all walks of life and are always on the lookout for people in need and those who can help out. ENFJs weave and strengthen the collective fabric of social conventions and interactions. Inclusiveness is important and they are particularly sensitive to those who are excluded. ENFJs focus on others, feeling a glow when those around them are happy, and troubled when something is amiss. They are natural cheerleaders, often expressing support, gratitude, and encouragement, and heaping praise onto those they appreciate. They take note of what is being done and what needs doing, offering their assistance wherever necessary..." _I thought that fit Nyota to a tee.

(14) **Jungian psychology:** A study of psychology based on the theories of Dr. Carl G. Jung. According to "The Shadow Dance": _"...__The Shadow, is a psychological term introduced by the late Swiss psychiatrist, Dr. Carl G. Jung. It is everything in us that is unconscious, repressed, undeveloped and denied. These are dark rejected aspects of our being as well as light, so there is positive undeveloped potential in the Shadow that we don't know about because anything that is unconscious, we don't know about. The Shadow is an archetype. And what an archetype simply means is that it is typical in consciousness for everyone. Everyone has a Shadow. This is not something that one or two people have. We all have a Shadow and a confrontation with the Shadow is essential for self awareness. We cannot learn about ourselves if we do not learn about our Shadow so therefore we are going to attract it through the mirrors of other people..." _**Author's Note:** Spock's Shadow is actually based on an incarnation of my own Shadow that I encountered in one of my own dreams. In my dream, the Shadow was a female, and Spock's dream it's a male; that gender specification is quite common in Shadows.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_With thanks to my fanfic betas "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips! Thank you, too, to WatchtheSkies for pointing out some typoes!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER ELEVEN:**

Dr. Surrey's afternoon schedule was free of other patients, and he had deliberately neglected to set the session-timer when Spock arrived in order to spend as much uninterrupted time with the Vulcan as Spock needed or would allow. As their discussion of Spock's Shadow figure continued, Surrey wrote: _His head hasn't canted since we've began this subject._ "Were there other words or symbols that stood out as vividly as the Shadow?" Surrey asked.

Spock sat back with a deep breath, as if preparing to plunge into deep water and needing as much air as possible in order to survive. "I wanted to go into the mountains, but the creature blocked my way. He said my path was barred."

"We talked a little about mountains during our first session. They can symbolize all sorts of things. What do they suggest to you in the context of your dream?"

"Up-thrusts of the planetary mantel. Natural barriers between land masses."

_That's the scientist in him, not Spock the man_. "Try being less literal. Use Johnson's technique to deconstruct the image based on your personal experiences and cultural inferences." (1)

"Very well." Spock tried again. "An apex. A high point. A thing to be achieved as a goal. Stone, solidity, a stable thing. A symbol of comfort --"

_That's an odd one._ "Comfort?"

"Yes. When I was a child, I used to go into the mountains to meet Sybok."

"Sybok is your half-brother, right?"

"Yes. We have the same father, but different mothers; his was Vulcan, mine Human."

"And he is a source of comfort for you?"

"Yes. He is non-judgmental. He always encourages me to be myself, to explore all sides of myself. He embraces his emotions and, therefore, has never found fault with mine."

"Okay. That puts some things into context for me; thank you." _No wonder he hallucinated his brother; Sybok's image is a sort of reflective, coping, self-soothing mechanism. _"Let's continue with the image of the mountains; you're doing great."

"Since my father ordered me not to see Sybok after he had been banished, the mountains might also represent disobedience, an unwillingness to conform, a stubbornness in me..."

Dr. Surrey nodded. _He's better at this than I thought he'd be._

Spock shook his head. "That last thought does not seem to 'fit' with the other inferences of the dream. I feel I should reject it. Is that reaction normal in this process?"

_Excellent!_ "Yes. Some thoughts will jibe with your dream images while others won't, but giving attention to every idea that comes to mind helps you determine what is an accurate assessment and what isn't."

"Use my 'gut'..." Spock echoed what Surrey had said in their first session.

"Exactly."

Spock's body slumped. His gut was imprecise; his gut was flawed; he and his gut were not always on speaking terms, as his logical mind often tended to overrule it. "I do not feel safe using my 'gut'," he admitted. His head canted again.

_'Safe'; that's an interesting term to use. He feels vulnerable and doesn't trust himself. -- And the head-knock may be connected to that_. "That was honest," Surrey said, "and it's okay to feel that way. When we deal with the Unconscious, especially the Shadow, we often touch on uncomfortable things, but... It's sort of like: Once your Unconscious gets the idea you're making an effort to better understand it, it's more likely to let you know when you're on the right track."

"You speak of the Unconscious as though it is a separate sentient entity."

"In a very broad sense, it is. It retains information differently than the Conscious mind; it reacts on different levels; has its own language and its own cast of characters... like the Shadow. Now, the Shadow doesn't make an appearance unless there is something in the Unconscious it wants addressed, so you need to pay attention to it. Other hints you're dealing with the Unconscious are flowing water, events happening at night as opposed to day, or being high above the ground, like in an attic or on the top of a high rise building..."

"The creature in my dream was on an island in a vast ocean, and it was night. Everything was wet, as though it had recently rained."

"Those all sound like classic markers for the Unconscious." Spock raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Jung also believed the Unconscious was comprised of layers," Surrey continued.

"The Vulcan brain is comprised of layers (2),"Spock muttered, more to himself than to the doctor. "And the Shadow-being seemed to be comprised of layers as well..."

_He's trying to make the mental leap from the literal to the figurative_, Surrey thought. _Good for him; that's not always an easy task for Vulcans._ "In Jungian theory, the outer layers of the Unconscious are added by the individual -- personal experiences, traumas, impressions, repressed thoughts and feelings, likes and dislikes, things like that -- and its under-layers are comprised of a mental scaffolding Jung referred to as the Collective Unconscious; an amalgamation of those instincts, insights, and archetypes shared by all intelligent beings."

Spock perked up. "Is the Collective Unconscious species specific?"

"Well, in his lifetime, Jung didn't know anything about Vulcans or other non-Terran life forms, so he was speaking strictly about Earth-bound Humans. However, in our exploration of the galaxy, we have discovered other life forms which have archetypes in common with our own, such as those symbolizing Wisdom, or Procreation, or Death. Those symbols bear the traits of the individual species and cultures, of course, but can otherwise be considered 'shared' among all known species."

"Vulcans also believe in a shared Consciousness," Spock said, leaning forward. "We call it _k'war'ma'khon,_ the vibration of extended family; that which links one Vulcan to another, making us one race, one world, regardless of clan ties or origins."

"The layers you saw in the Shadow being may represent that in one sense," Dr. Surrey suggested.

Spock mulled this notion for a few moments and then said, "There were also miniscule points of light within the layers of the Shadow-being. I thought they may have represented the stars, but now I see they may also have represented the lost Vulcans."

_Wow, that was a fantastic mental leap for him_. "How so?" the doctor asked.

"You are aware of the concept of the katra?" Spock asked.

"_Katra_ is the Vulcan term for a being's living spirit, or its soul. Right?"

Spock shifted to the edge of his chair, "I do not know if the word 'soul', as I understand the Human concept, is accurate, Doctor; however, in the sense the katra, like the Human soul, lives on after the death of the body, you are correct. The katra can be transferred immediately before the death of its host into another living being or into a vessel."

"A vre'katra."

"Precisely. Once transference has taken place, the katra may continue to exist for centuries. Surak's katra, for example, survived for one-thousand six-hundred and fifty-six years... (3) Mount Seleya held a shrine containing hundreds of vre'katra. Most were ceremonial, but others contained the essence of their once-living hosts, and the Elders could commune with them in meditation at the shrine."

"Which was what your parents were doing when Nero attacked Vulcan," Dr. Surrey said, understanding he was treading on emotional ground and that poking at this particular sore spot might induce a violent reaction from Spock.

"Yes," Spock said, settling back again. "Yes," he repeated, momentarily disconnected from the present. His eyes lost their focus, and he said to himself, "Mother died there, at the Katric Ark; her katra disappeared there..."

"It must have been difficult, being linked as you all are through the _k'war'ma'khon_, when so many Vulcans died so suddenly."

Spock, tucking the toy Vulcan protectively in his fist, was quiet for a moment. "We all felt the deaths -- billions of them," he said. "A great weight, a blinding pain beyond feeling, and then darkness in the depths of the mind..."

"That must have been overwhelming."

Spock lifted his chin in a gesture of personal power and authority, however, the rest of his body didn't join the effort, so the effect was weakened. "Vulcans compartmentalize when 'overwhelmed', Doctor. Our minds establish priorities, address one issue at a time. As you and others have pointed out on several occasions, we have never faced a catastrophe of this magnitude before. Yet, we have endured. In the aftermath of the destruction, we have resettled and rebuilt... then there were the clan battles, and the Ek'tevan Prerogative... with over one-hundred Vulcans renouncing their citizenship and leaving New Vulcan..."

"So you as an individual, and Vulcans as a people, haven't yet had a chance to focus on or deal with your incredible loss and grief."

"Other things do take precedence," said Spock.

"In the short term, that's often true. Yes. Life goes on, and so must we. But, Mister Spock, when anguish and suffering so impacts your cognitive abilities that it becomes difficult or even impossible for you to deal with those 'other things', with life, it's time for the trauma to be addressed. Don't you agree?"

"I thought that was what we were do--" Spock's forehead furrowed as something occurred to him. He blinked, dark eyes darting under half-closed lids, as he chased the flight of his thoughts. Then he leaned forward again and, uncharacteristically, put the fingers of his left hand onto the doctor's knee. He said, his eyes wide with realization, "No one has returned to the void that was once our homeworld. Katras may still survive there... the dull lights in the Shadow-being's robes in my dream..."

Dr. Surrey didn't know what to say or do. He had never linked with a Vulcan before, so this was a new sensation for him. It was exhilarating and revealing. He felt both the heightened anxiety and the excitement Spock's expressionless façade masked. The Vulcan's bright emotions fizzed along his nerves and through the creases of his brain like a cascade of electricity. Surrey had to narrow his eyes to shield them from the brilliance: it was like looking into the heart of a star.

Spock's mind was more complex than he had imagined. Intense, solid, liquid, vaporous feelings flowed through the doctor's brain in living, prismatic color, along with a cacophony of calculations, memories, inner dialogs. Nyota – _Seduce my mind and you can have my body_..._._(4) To-do lists. Instincts verging on primal coexisted on the same level as the reasoning, cognitive part of Spock's mind. Father. _"You are and always have been something of a challenge for me; but never a disappointment."_ (5) It was the most amazing thing the doctor had ever encountered… Mother – _A wonderful rare woman_... (6)

When Dr. Surrey didn't say anything, Spock looked at his hand on the doctor's knee and realized he had established a link. He pulled the hand away quickly, saying, "I apologize, Doctor."

"No," Surrey said. The link had snapped so suddenly he felt dizzy for a second, but he added reassuringly, "It's -- it's okay. I understand you weren't being deliberately intrusive."

"You are generous with your assessment. Thank you."

Surrey blinked. Vulcans seldom touched one another from pure emotionalism, so he took the gesture as an indication of how open and vulnerable Spock was allowing himself to be. _Incredible!_ "Thank you, Mister Spock. I'm flattered you felt comfortable enough to share that with me, even if momentarily."

"Is it possible?" Spock asked. "Could my dream have been speaking about them?"

"I'm sorry," Surrey said, not understanding. "Speaking about whom -- ?"

"The katras. Could the dream have been addressing the issue of the katras?"

"Um, yes," Surrey pulled his full attention back to Spock. "It could've been. However, let's not get too far afield just yet. First, let's focus on what the dream means to you as an individual, rather than what it might mean in the context of Vulcan mysticism." Even as he said that, he understood, from the brief link, that Vulcan mysticism and the k'war'ma'khon were part of Spock as in individual, as inseparable from him as his skin and tissue.

Spock sat back and looked toward the door with, if Surrey did not know better, something close to a pout. _Oh, no you don't_, Dr. Surrey thought to himself. _You are not putting your Vulcan stubbornness between us now, after all the good work we've done today_. "Your mother was prominent in your mind when you touched me..."

Spock didn't turn his head, but he let his eyes fall on the doctor, a gesture indicating he was only partially agreeable to discussing this topic.

_Mom is a touchy subject._ "Beyond the obvious, what does the symbol of your mother represent to you?" Dr. Surrey asked.

After several beats, Spock said quietly, "My Human half. My emotional structure, nurturance, procreation..."

"Good. Keep going."

Spock returned his focus to Surrey and engaged with the process once more. "I told the Shadow-creature I wanted to take my mother to the mountains, but he would not let me pass. He told me I first had to shovel snow, and that I had to do the labor; my mother could not. I do not understand the reference to 'snow'."

"Think about it. What are the general qualities of snow?"

"It is water frozen into a crystallized form."

"Be less literal... Remember, dreams often use metaphors and symbols for things rather than precise, factual definitions. Just say whatever comes to mind, even if it doesn't seem to fit right now."

Spock's eyebrows knit together as he forced himself to think in a more imaginative manner to decipher this symbol. He pressed the figurine's head against his lips, and then said around it, "Delta Vega. Frozen. A hostile environment..."

_Interesting,_ thought Surrey.

"A coldness, lack of warmth, inertia. Immobility. Fixed, stopped... suppressed."

"Okay."

Spock shook his head. "It still makes no sense to me."

_That's because you don't want to face the part of you that has gone inert and immobile_. "Well, think about it in this context: what part of you as an individual right now seems frozen or suppressed..."

"My emotions? My... gentleness with myself. My desire or ability to forgive," Spock said.

_That was wonderfully honest. He's really working with this now_. "Now, put all the bits together into a cohesive statement that feels right to you."

Spock frowned and his eyes clenched into slits as he tried to glimpse something within himself that evaded his vision. He said slowly, "In order to reach the mountains, I must labor in the frozen place to uncover Sybok..." His brain worked on several levels to interpret that scenario. The most prominent spoke to the context of the Vulcan people and to himself as Spock alone. Since Dr. Surrey had said he did not want to hear how the dream might correlate to the k'war'ma'khon yet, Spock did not share all his revelations. Instead, he tapped the toy's head with his thumb and communicated a single personal interpretation. "...In order for me to reach some pinnacle of comfort and stability, my Vulcan half, the part of me that is not my mother's child, the part which suppresses my emotions, must labor to uncover and revive the feeling, forgiving, nonjudgmental part of myself..." Spock looked up at Surrey. "Is that correct?"

_That was fabulous, Spock!_ "How does it sound to you?"

"It... 'feels' as though it is a correct assessment of the imagery."

"Then it probably is correct. If it was wrong, you would have felt that."

"Can there be more than one accurate interpretation?"

"Certainly. Given the complexity of sentient beings, there is seldom only one right answer to any given question when it comes to things like this. Soooo... What do you think about what your Unconscious is telling you -- about uncovering and reviving your feeling, forgiving, nonjudgmental self?"

Spock's eyes turned stony. "To outwardly express my feelings goes against the Vulcan way."

_Damn. He's falling back toward his comfort-zone_. "Yes, but if a strict adherence to the Vulcan way has left you inert, and cold and hostile, Mister Spock, then maybe you need to let it go, even if it's just for a little while."

Spock paraphrased the words his father had once spoken to him as a child, "There is a serenity that comes from the pursuit of logic. We control our emotions, so they do not control us."

"I understand and appreciate that approach... But, Spock, you lost your mother. You lost your homeworld. You had paternity forced upon you. What you believed were your inviolable rights were ripped from you. Where is the logic, or the serenity, in squelching your feelings about those issues? These feelings must be acknowledged and dealt with in order for you to recover from what's happened to you over the last year or so."

"What would you have me do, Doctor? Rant? Cry? Pummel holes into walls? I cannot do these things."

"No one is asking you to be histrionic, Spock. Your Vulcan cultural aesthetic can temper how you externalize your feelings."

"There is no precedent for that. I do not know how to proceed."

"Neither do I, so... maybe we should try to figure it out together."

Spock was quiet for several seconds. His head canted to the right and back again.

_Feeling vulnerable._ "You need to trust the process, Spock."

Spock stood from his chair. The movement was so rapid, Surrey actually recoiled in his seat for a moment, afraid that the Vulcan might lash out and strike him. There was no outburst, however. Instead, Spock walked over to the miniature Vulcans on their shelf and replaced the one he had taken from there. _Integrating the individual back into the whole_, Surrey thought to himself. _He's finished talking about himself for the day. _

"Okay. Why don't we call it day, Mister Spock?"

"Yes, Doctor," Spock said.

"You did some great work today."

To that, Spock had no comment, and Surrey suspected, _he won't give himself credit until he's got it all figured out. Quite a harsh taskmaster. I wonder if he was this tough on his students in the Academy?_

Spock did not return to his quarters after the long, enervating session with Dr. Surrey. Instead, he roamed corridors he knew would be the least occupied, and then confined himself to the aft Observation Deck for the remainder of the evening.

~*~*~*~

When Spock finally returned to his quarters at ten-hundred hours the next morning, Nyota was not there. He would seek her out later and apologize for neglecting her. She would no doubt dismiss the oversight, but Vulcan courtesy demanded he make the effort and initial gesture anyway. There were several messages on his com-link, and he reviewed them as Pa'shu, yawning, lumbered from her mattress and shoved her nose into his hand until he pet her.

"You are quite spoiled," he said to the sehlat. Pa'shu bellowed, but he was uncertain if she were agreeing with him or complaining about being scolded. He scratched her muzzle above her nose, and her eyes closed with contentment.

Dr. Surrey's message thanked him for an "honest and revealing session last evening"; Mr. Scott's informed him the LCARS(7) needed routine defragmentation, which he added to the "to do" list in his mind. The message from Sarek asked Spock to meet with him and Sa'aat so they could discuss "some things of importance"; and Captain Kirk's message ordered him -- politely -- to be available for a "confidential staff meeting" in Medical Conference Room One that afternoon; however, no time had been set yet. Conjecture on the topic was unnecessary; Spock knew it was about him. The final message was from the Crikian seamstress on Jagusch-McGillis telling him the embroidered panel of Vulcan calligraphy he had ordered was nearly complete, and she would have it wrapped and transported to the ship's receiving dock the following day. Spock added another note to his mental catalog to pick it up as soon as it arrived.

Pa'shu trailed after him as he headed for the bathroom to shower and re-dress. In the bedroom he discovered Nyota had left a tiny platter with two large, coated strawberries on the bed along with a note that read:

"In case you need a snack before work. Love you, Nyota."

She had drawn a little fat face next to her name; it was smiling. Spock picked the note up, putting it to his lips as he moved toward the bathroom. He paused in the doorway, then walked back to the bed and picked the plate up as well. "These are not for you," he told Pa'shu. The sehlat snuffled the plate then turned away, sneezing cloying bear-snot onto the floor.

~*~*~*~

After checking, and finding, that the ship's maintenance was ahead of schedule, Spock, with Pa'shu accompanying him, took the turbolift to the main deck. When the doors opened, Pa'shu stepped onto the bridge as though she owned it, but Spock remained inside the lift-car, his hands clasped behind his back. Captain Kirk, seated in the command chair, turned toward the turbolift and said, "Spock?"

"I request permission to enter the bridge, Captain. Mister Scott has informed me the LCARS requires defragmentation and compression. Access is most readily available through the Science Station." Which was not untrue, Spock told himself. Although the LCARS was accessible through just about any interface on the ship, entry through the Science Station on the bridge was the most direct.

"Permission granted," Kirk grinned. He was pleased his First Officer was on the bridge, even if it was for a limited purpose. He nodded as Spock stepped past him toward the Science Station, and added, "It's good to see you up here again, Mister Spock."

"Thank you, Captain."

Pa'shu had plodded to the helm and stood between Sulu and Chekov, looking at the expansive view screen that dominated the fore of the bridge. Ensign Chekov reached out to pat her side, but Mr. Sulu seemed less inclined to put his hand anywhere within striking distance of her saber teeth.

Kirk gestured toward the sehlat. "She's... not going to sneeze on the equipment, is she?"

"I cannot yet anticipate her olfactory reaction to stimuli," Spock admitted. "It seems, however, that she does have a sensitive snout."

"Well, if she's going to blow, make sure she's facing away from anything we can't easily clean."

"I will endeavor to comply," Spock said before turning to Pa'shu and pointing at the floor near his station. "Ti ne'le la, Pa'shu." (8) She waddled over, settled into a heavy lump by Spock's feet, putting her head on her front paws. After a yawn that showed all her fearsome teeth, she licked her chops, closed her eyes and dozed off.

"She sure seems to sleep a lot," Kirk commented.

"That is not uncommon," Spock explained. "In the wild, pregnant sehlats often go into a light hibernating state in order to conserve energy for the birth and provide stability for the developing cubs."

A few minutes later, the turbolift door _swished_ open again, and Dr. McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura stepped onto the bridge. Engaged in their conversation, McCoy asked Nyota, "What time will you be available to meet?"

"I'm off duty at fifteen-hundred hours, but I can make myself available any time before that if you need me to."

"Dr. Surrey says he's left his schedule open from fourteen-hundred on, so let's plan on -- "

McCoy stopped so abruptly that Nyota almost bumped into him. She followed his eyes to their point of focus: Spock seated at the Science Station. Nyota smiled and headed for her own station, passing Spock on her way. She gave him a covert thumbs-up and said quietly, "Your father came by your quarters looking for you last night. I told him you were out meditating and that he should leave a message."

"He did. Thank you, Lieutenant Uhura," Spock replied, always formal with her when they were on the bridge.

McCoy scowled at their exchange and stepped to the captain's chair where he mumbled to Kirk, "Uh... excuse me, Captain, but I don't remember releasing Spock for duty on the bridge."

"Relax, Bones," Kirk said, finding humor in the doctor's irritation. "He's just doing some stewardship stuff on the library computer."

"He can do that from just about anywhere on the ship."

"He said it's easier for him to do it from here."

"How convenient."

"Besides, I like having him on the bridge."

"Jim, I don't want y-- "

"I can hear you, gentlemen." Spock turned in his chair to look at the captain and Dr. McCoy. "If my presence is a point of contention -- "

"No one is getting 'contentious', Mister Spock," Kirk said looking to McCoy. "Right, Bones?"

McCoy's scowl deepened and his lips pursed, but he grumbled "Right, Captain," anyway. He leaned closer to Kirk, growling into his ear, "But I'd like a word with you later about undermining my authority as the Chief Medical Officer." Kirk clapped the doctor on the shoulder, and nodded in apology. "Mister Spock," McCoy continued in a normal tone of voice. Spock turned once again to face the doctor. "Will you be able to join us in Medical Conference Room One at fifteen-hundred today? There are a few things we'd like to discuss with you."

"Captain Kirk informed me of the meeting via memo earlier, Doctor. And, yes, fifteen-hundred is more than agreeable."

"Good," McCoy said. "We'll see you then."

Spock nodded once and returned his attention to the computer.

"Feel better?" Kirk asked the doctor quietly.

"Not really," McCoy said.

~*~*~*~

Spock later found Sarek, Sa'aat, and the pilot, Gilgreni, in the Shuttle Bay just as Mister Scott eagerly requested a "better look" at the _Haulat_, and Sa'aat led him inside. Gilgreni and Sarek acknowledged Spock with silent nods before they all joined Sa'aat and Scotty on the ship. Leaving Pa'shu on the lower deck, they took the short turbolift ride to the _Haulat_'s main deck, where Sa'aat endeavored to answer a few more of Scotty's million questions. "Although the _Haulat_ can respond to automated instructions and requests through the computer system, the quickest and most accurate way to interface with the ship is through a kash-naf (9)," he explained.

"Oh, aye? And what's that?" Scotty asked eagerly.

"A kash-naf," Gilgreni explained, "is a mind-link."

"You link your brain with the koko'dan's?"

"Precisely," said Sa'aat.

"Can you show me how?"

Sa'aat stepped into the well in the bridge that formed the _Haulat_'s command station and pressed a few buttons. A flat-topped panel on a long supportive leg, both wholly covered in the same grey-green skin that enclosed the ship's exterior, rose from the floor. Sa'aat placed his hand on the panel, and the skin on the interface and the outside of the ship sparkled slightly, quivering in reaction to his touch. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. "Kash-naf established," he said, and the interior of the _Haulat_ flared to life.

Scotty looked around, eyes wide. "In the name of the wee man," he said, astonished. "Will you look at that?"

Through the link, Sa'aat performed a few simple maneuvers inside the Bay, lifting the _Haulat_ toward the ceiling, making a three-hundred-sixty degree turn, cloaking and de-cloaking, then sidling to the windows of the aft Observation Deck. Part of the _Haulat_'s skin tightened and pulled back to reveal a large portal through which the Observation Deck and a young couple engaged in...a rather non-professional extracurricular activity, could be seen. Although the Vulcans were quietly appalled at the sight, Scotty laughed.

When the female realized the _Haulat_ was glowering at them through the windows, she shrieked in surprise, clutching her Red uniform shirt to her naked chest. Her companion looked around and then stood, aghast. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and the two rushed from the room, bare bottoms waggling.

"He'll be wearin' that dampt beamer (10) for the rest of the day, and that's a truth!" Scotty laughed again.

Sa'aat lowered the ship to the floor of the Bay and disengaged the link. The ship's interior lighting dulled and the leggy protrusion disappeared back into the floor. Scotty stepped forward and gripped Sa'aat's shoulder -- the Vulcan stiffening at the touch -- and exclaimed, "That was marvelous! Can the koko'dan link with anybody?"

"The _Haulat_ can establish a link with any intelligent being of his choice, yes; however --" He lifted Scotty's hand from his shoulder, releasing it into the air. "-- He tends to restrict such intimate contact to those he knows well and trusts."

"Could you let me have a go at it sometime?"

"Perhaps," Sa'aat said, being purposely noncommittal.

Scotty looked at the ceiling of the ship and called out, "Are you up for a session later, laddie? I promise not to make a right habble (11) of it." The ship's exterior skin shimmered and fizzled with power. Scotty frowned slightly, turning to Sa'aat. "Was that a yea or nay?"

"I believe it was an affirmative."

The Engineer beamed.

Sarek stepped forward and politely interrupted. "Excuse me, Engineer Scott."

"Aye, Ambassador," Scotty said, turning to him, his face still glowing with excitement.

"If you would allow us some privacy," Sarek indicated the other Vulcans, "We have a few things we need to discuss."

Scotty looked at Gilgreni, Sa'aat and Spock, and then back at Sarek. He was a bit disappointed at the intrusion, but didn't want to say anything that might convince Sa'aat to deny him the opportunity to learn more about the _Haulat_, so he sighed and nodded. "All righty then. Sure." He clapped his hands together as a form of punctuation, saying, "I'll be in Engineering if you need me." He let himself off the ship with a bounce in his step, giving the Vulcans their privacy.

When Scotty was well away, Spock walked over to the weapons station and stood behind the chair there, waiting for his father to sit first or to give him permission to take the chair himself. Sarek seemed distracted, however, and didn't pick up on Spock's physical cue. Instead, he said, "We received several transmissions from New Vulcan last evening."

Spock put his hands behind his back and extended his chin slightly to indicate he was interested in what Sarek was saying, but would not press for details unless specifically asked to do so. Gilgreni and Sa'aat were equally attentive.

After a brief pause, Sarek said, "It seems the new Ministers are anxious for reunification, and have proposed modifications to their original timetable. They are requesting that the senior members of the Fonn Vuhlkansu return to New Vulcan ahead of schedule to petition for a seat on the new Transitional Council."

"Do you think it is safe to return there, Father?" Spock asked, concerned.

His father answered and yet did not answer him. "With Semuk and T'Pau no longer in power," Sarek said, "it would seem to be the most advantageous time to proceed."

"But T'Pau has been discovered, has she not?" Gilgreni asked.

Spock's head tipped to the right and back, and he gripped the back of the weapons station's chair with one hand. The others saw this, but gave no voice to their concerns about it out of respect.

"We have word she is ensconced in a cave in the Mazhiv Solai (12),but we have not ascertained her status," Sa'aat said, his eyes on Spock. He looked to Sarek, "I was hoping to have time to go to New Vulcan ahead of you, sir, to investigate her situation."

"There may still be time for that, Sa'aat. The original schedule would have allowed us twenty-two more days to collect our representatives and coordinate our terms for inclusion. The new schedule, however, only allows for ten. If we agree, will we have time to discuss the matter, choose our representatives and finalize our proposed charter?"

"I believe so," Gilgreni said. "We are in agreement on most matters, Ambassador. There is only the trifling issue of who will take the Chair if the Council offers it. Your name, sir, has come up as a most singular candidate."

"Your name, Ambassador Sarek... and Spock's," Sa'aat corrected.

They turned their eyes toward Spock. He continued to grip the chair with one hand, his breath tight, his face impassive, as Sa'aat went on: "It was Spock who spoke first and most eloquently against the Ek'tevan Prerogative. It was Spock who, above all others, committed himself to the decision to relinquish his citizenship rather than relinquish his rights and dignity as a free Vulcan. And he was, after all, the inspiration in forming the Sect of the Fonn Vuhlkansu. He is a highly respected and decorated officer in Starfleet; the first Vulcan to have graduated with honors from Starfleet Academy. With all due respect, Ambassador, Spock is as distinguished and as legitimate a candidate as yourself. And since it is one of the stated goals of the Fonn Vuhlkansu to establish stronger ties with Earth and the Federation, who better to stand as vanguard for us than a Vulcan who is already acknowledged and respected by that body?"

Gilgreni was going to object, but Sarek interrupted him, "Agreed."

A wave of pride and gratitude rushed through Spock, tingeing the tips of his ears with an unVulcan-like blush. "Your words honor me, Father," he said. He looked at Sa'aat and Gilgreni, "However, as I am a commissioned officer in Starfleet, my duties and responsibilities preclude me from accepting any position on New Vulcan at this time. My father, therefore, is the better choice to stand as a delegate for our people."

"We can put the matter to a vote today," Gilgreni said.

"I assume that you are committed to accepting the new abbreviated time table, then," Sarek said.

"Yes. I see no reason to delay. If the Ministers are willing to open seats on the Council, we should fill those seats before they have an opportunity to rethink their decision."

"I agree," Sa'aat said.

Sarek looked to his son. "What say you, Spock?"

"An expeditious tack does seem the most logical, Father."

"Very well," Sarek said. "I will inform the Ministry that we accept the altered calendar. I would also like the Fonn Vuhlkansu to meet as soon as possible to decide upon the members of our delegation. If offered, I will accept the leadership position. Spock?"

"Yes, Father?"

"I had made arrangements with Starfleet to travel aboard the _Enterprise_ until it rendezvoused with the other Federation vessels invited to the unveiling of the new Transitional Council. Would it be possible for this ship to host the entire Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation and transport us to New Vulcan for that event?"

"If other orders do not conflict with the request, I believe the captain would be amenable. I shall put the question to him today."

"Thank you," Sarek took a slow breath, allowing his brain to switch over to another topic. "Now, there is also the issue of the plak-tau females."

Spock's head canted to the side and back again. "Why are they an issue?" he asked.

"You are aware of my pilot, S'Risha's condition," said Sarek.

"Yes. She is in Medical Bay, in accouchement. Dr. McCoy has listed her condition as stable but guarded."

"I received a transmission last evening from a female to whom I was bred under the Ek'tevan Prerogative named T'Makh."

Spock's head tipped again. "You know the names of your females, Father?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes."

Spock looked at Sa'aat. "And you know yours as well?"

"Yes, Spock. I also know the names of yours, but I have not yet ascertained their medical status. Would you like me to name them for you?"

"I would," Spock said. "Upon Nyota's agreement, I was going to request that you locate the females for me but... apparently, you anticipated my desire. Thank you." The words of gratitude sounded incongruently harsh and uncomplimentary. The other Vulcans recognized this as what the Humans referred to as sarcasm. They were somewhat shocked to hear Spock employ it. "Who are they?" Spock asked, his words sounding more like a command than an inquiry.

"Their names are --"

"A caution, Sa'aat," said Sarek.

Spock's head tilted and straightened again. "Father?"

"He has requested the knowledge," Sa'aat said to Sarek. "I see no point in restrictions at this juncture."

Sarek turned to Spock and explained, "We were going to present this information to you in the Medical Conference meeting this afternoon. The Earth doctors thought it best to withhold it from you until they could gather around you in support."

"How generous of them," Spock said, again with unconvincing gratitude. His eyes went to Sa'aat. "Their names, please."

"They are -- "

"The five --" Sarek interrupted again. Spock's eyes snapped to his father's, and Sarek continued, "The five you serviced through the plak-tau were T'Liik, Karil, T'Edri, V'Rha'lahn and T'Cloo."

The tension in Spock's body leaked from him for a moment, and his head drooped. In a hollow voice he said, "I know them not."

"Did you expect to?" Sa'aat asked him.

"No," he said. His whole being all at once ached with despair and disappointment, and part of his mind found that to be an odd reaction. Before being given their names, he didn't care if he knew the women; why then, was he so dissatisfied now? If he had known them, would it have made a difference? He took in a breath, lifted his head and repeated, "No, I did not expect to know them. I was simply..." He shook his head, unsure how to finish the sentence.

Sarek continued in his son's silence, "T'Makh was one of my two. Of the two, she was the only one impregnated. And now she is suffering from a condition that seems to echo that of S'Risha."

An eyebrow cocked in interest, Spock looked to Sa'aat. "And your females -- ?"

"T'Lale and her sibling T'Yelas. Both pregnant; one suffering thus far. Her symptomology is the same," Sa'aat said.

Spock looked to Gilgreni.

"Neither of my females are with child," he admitted emotionlessly.

"Three females bred at approximately the same time, under similar circumstances, all having parallel difficulties..." Spock said, "That does seem to portend misfortune for the women of the Prerogative."

"Nurse Chapel came to me earlier with concerns of an epidemic of problem pregnancies. I told her she was speculating," Sa'aat admitted.

"Did she have information about the plak-tau females that we do not?"

"No."

"Then she was speculating," Spock said supportively. "However, Humans often have a knack for foretelling disaster, and I have learned to take such obtuse observations into consideration..." He turned back to his father. "Have you been able to ascertain if any other females on New Vulcan are exhibiting similar complications?"

"I have inquiries with the Ministry and with the medical establishment on the planet, but they are loathe to share their data as yet," Sarek said.

Spock looked at Sa'aat who answered his unspoken question with, "I am looking into it."

"It may also be possible for Dr. McCoy to seek an identifiable link between the plak-tau drug and the natal difficulties," Spock suggested.

"In order for him to run valid tests, he would need a sample of the drug itself," Gilgreni said.

"True. At this late stage, it would seem unlikely that any trace of the drug would still be in our bloodstreams." Spock looked again to Sa'aat.

"I will see if my agents can procure a sample for us," Sa'aat said.

"What can we do in the mean time?" Spock asked.

"T'Makh asked that she be sent to the Vulcan settlement in Nevada on Earth, but it is unwise for her to travel in her present state. So, she lies-in at the Medical Facility on New Vulcan. I contacted the Federation Science Bureau and the Federation Council to ask for assistance, but have been advised that in order for the Federation to intervene on the behalf of the plak-tau women, the Ministers of New Vulcan must grant permission... and they are otherwise occupied, as you know. Therefore, there is little we can do at the moment except monitor this situation as it develops, from the outside."

"Rather like watching a pregnancy itself," Gilgreni observed.

"Yes, but what form of offspring will be brought forth?" asked Sa'aat.

* * *

(1) **Johnson's technique:** This refers to the techniques for dream analysis proffered by Johnson in his book _"Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth"_ by Robert A. Johnson. (1989)

(2)**The Vulcan brain:** according to the Memory Alpha site, _"...__This has some basis in fact, as the Vulcan brain is composed of many layers. It is in direct control of most of the bodily functions, acting as a control unit for many organs. Despite this, a Vulcan body from which the brain has been removed is capable of functioning and even walking around (albeit in a zombie-like state) with a portable life support system...__The psycho-suppression system responsible for the Vulcan suppression of emotions is located in the mesiofrontal cortex..."_

(3) **Longevity of the Katra:** This was based on an episode of "_Enterprise_" and the Star Trek Memory Alpha site's dissertation on katras, which reads in part: _"...A highly notable surviving __katra__ was the one of Surak, Vulcan's founder and father of Vulcan philosophy. Although Surak died in the 4th century, his __katra__ survived to the year 2154 when it was briefly held by a Human, Captain Jonathan Archer before its transference to a Vulcan Priest. The reappearance of Surak's __katra__ was instrumental in the rise of T'Pau's influence and the following reorganization of Vulcan government and society... The __katra__ can be restored when a person has died and his Katra was transferred to someone, if the family of that person wishes to do so. This ritual is called __fal-tor-pan__, which literally means "the refusion". This ritual is performed very rarely. The last time was in 2285 when Spock [Prime]'s regenerated body was found on Genesis and returned to Mount Seleya, where his __katra__ was transferred from Doctor McCoy into his own body."_ According to Sybok's back-story, as recorded on the Star Trek Memory Alpha and Memory Beta sites, when Sybok's mother died, her katra was forcibly removed from her body. The back story read in part: _"... [H]er katra was forcibly removed and placed within a vre'katra where it was interned within the Hall of Ancient Thought. Sybok believed that the actions of the Adepts of Gol contributed to her death and was kept from her thus not allowing him to full his promise to her about journeying to the Source." _Sybok later located his mother's katra and mind-melded with it "_despite the risk of succumbing to madness."_

(4) **Seduce my mind...:** This is from a poem by an anonymous author which reads in part, _"Seduce my mind and you can have my body; find my soul and I am yours forever." _There are several different versions of this, and you'll be seeing a more "Vulcan" version of it later in the story.

(5) This quote is from my original story, **"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"**. When Spock was rescued from New Vulcan, he asked Sarek if he was a disappointment to him, and Sarek answered: _"No, Spock. You are and always have been something of a challenge for me; but never a disappointment. Especially not today. If I am disappointed in anyone, I am disappointed in myself. Regardless of my motives, I should not have allowed them to treat you thus..." _

(6) **Mother:** This is a rehash of a quote by the English author D. H. Lawrence (11 September 1885 – 2 March 1930) which reads, _"She is my first, great love. She was a wonderful, rare woman - you do not know; as strong, and steadfast, and generous as the sun. She could be as swift as a white whiplash, and as kind and gentle as warm rain, and as steadfast as the irreducible earth beneath us."_

(7)**LCARS**: The ship's **L**ibrary **C**omputer **A**ccess and **R**etrieval **S**ystem, also known simply as the ship's library computer. According to the Star Trek Freedom Wiki, _"...It was accessible by both voice and keypad commands. LCARS used sophisticated artificial intelligence routines to understand and execute vocal natural language commands. Starfleet personnel also frequently interfaced with LCARS with PADDs, tricorders and control panels..." _

(8) **Ti ne'le la Pa'shu**: translated from the Vulcan it means, "Lie down here, Pa'shu."

(9) **Kash-naf**: the Vulcan word for "mind-link".

(10) **Dampt beamer**: "dampt" is Scot for "damned", and a "beamer" is a blush, or a red face caused by embarrassment.

(11) **Habble**: a Scot word for a mess, or a clumsy ineffectual way of doing something.

(12) **Mazhiv Solai:** translated from the Vulcan it means "sand field"; an expanse of desert outside of the capitol city of New Vulcan.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

_With thanks to my fanfic betas "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips!_

Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE:

Spock felt agitated, pained and distracted as he left the Shuttle Bay after discussing the plak-tau women with his father, Sa'aat and Gilgreni. He tried to assist the engineering crew with the last of their maintenance duties before his meeting in the Medical Conference Room, but he found it difficult to concentrate and had to step back from doing detailed work and simply supervise. His pelvis ached and his nerves tingled and twitched. It was all he could do to keep from trembling.

Once their work was complete, Spock thanked the engineers, awarded them additional shore leave for accomplishing their tasks ahead of schedule, and dismissed them. They rushed off, excited to take advantage of the perk, leaving him alone with Pa'shu. Spock was grateful to see them go. As soon as they were out of sight, he let his rigid posture slump with exhaustion. Gait unsteady, he walked with the sehlat to the aft portion of the deck, past the warp cores and hefty water circulation processors, under the towering scaffolds and metal catwalks. Sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, he tried some breathing meditations to calm his agitation as Pa'shu squatted next to him. Although he tried to shield her from his disquiet, he knew she could sense it. He refrained from touching her, afraid he would trigger some distress in her if they accidentally linked.

"If there is one thing this ship doesn't need, it's a four-hundred pound sehlat running amok," Sybok said. Spock looked up, startled, and Sybok, standing across from him at the bottom of a metal staircase, with his hand on the rail, smiled. His longish hair was loose, and he wore soft shoes and pale chapped-cloth robes decorated with calligraphy that indicated he was a healer and an adept. Spock knew Sybok had undergone rigorous training under the guidance of his mother, T'Rea, a zealot who had believed her son a prophet, (1) so Spock did not question the glyphs. Nor did he question why Sybok had not been with him when he had met the others on the _Haulat_. They would have shunned him, and since there was no reason for Sybok to subject himself to their provincial views, his lack of attendance was not surprising. "Cloistering yourself away again, Little Brother?" Sybok asked. "One would think you'd become a monk, the way you wander off for hours at a time."

"I have not wandered off," Spock said.

"Then you're hiding."

"No," Spock said.

"Oh, that doesn't sound like the truth to me" Sybok countered.

"I am not cloistered nor am I in hiding. I am sitting in plain sight. You found me, did you not?"

"Ah, yes, but then, I always know where to find you, don't I?" Sybok grinned. He came away from the stairs and sat on the floor with Spock. "So..." Sybok smoothed his robes around him, making himself comfortable, "Why are we _'sitting in plain sight'_ among the pipes and dust?"

"I needed a moment," Spock replied.

"A moment for what?"

"To compose myself."

"Why?"

"Because I am discomposed," Spock snapped back.

Sybok's eyes gleamed with surprise. "Anger, Spock? Good for you! Let out that perturbation, Little Brother!" Spock glared at him. "That's it!" Sybok said.

"Leave me be," Spock growled threateningly, but his body spoke a more defensive language as he wrapped his arms around himself protectively.

"An ineffective barricade," Sybok said as he poked Spock's arm. "It won't keep your emotions in, and it won't keep your half-brother out."

"Go away."

"No."

Spock glowered at Sybok. "Get away from me."

"No." Sybok leaned in closer, putting his face directly in front of Spock's, challenging his younger sibling with, "Let loose your anger, Spock, before it devours you."

"I am a Vulcan," Spock said.

"Yes, you are. Ever our father's son. You use the sheer force of your will and your physical strength to -- to do what, Spock? Restrain all you feel; your pain, your emotional turmoil?"

"Yes."

"You're an impressive and inspiring creature, Little Brother, but these feelings are larger than yourself, and you know it. Trying to smother them with your body is as illogical as trying to smother a wildfire with a handful of lint."

"I must try."

"Why?"

"Because, I -- Because if I do not --"

"If you do not -- what? You'll go mad? You'll prove yourself your mother's child? Speak to your fear, Spock. Give voice to it."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because speaking to it gives it strength," Spock said.

"Is your fear a living creature? Does breathing into it, bring it to life?" Sybok put out a gentle hand, but Spock pulled closer to the wall to keep his brother from touching him again. "Spock, it's a feeling – a manifestation; a physiological reaction to traumatic stimuli -- not a mythical shaka (2) that can draw power from the mere speaking of its name. You know this. Use your intelligence. You are a scientist, aren't you?"

"Yes -- "

"Then tell me, Scientist, what happens to a contained energy source when it's put under compression?"

"The greater the compressive force, the greater the energy output --"

"And if that output reaches a critical stage and venting is impossible?"

"Combustion... Detonation..."

"The container explodes."

"I am not a mechanism or a warp core."

"No. You are a living spirit: a katra surrounded by soft tissue, dense bone and electrical impulses. You are not made to live inside a jar. Release yourself."

Spock turned his face away, his body starting to shake with the force he fought to contain. "If I let this go... I will lose myself."

"You are already lost, Spock." Spock looked at Sybok, and Sybok, his face soft with compassion and understanding, continued, "Look within -- "

Spock took in a shuddering breath, shaking his head.

"Is this man hiding within the bowels of Engineering, Spock, son of Amanda of Earth? The same Spock who stood against the Transitional Council and fought to retain his rights and dignity in the face of the Ek'tevan Prerogative? The one who dared, even as a child, to stand against our formidable father? The one who made overtures of kun-ut (3) to his pretty Human Lieutenant, even though Vulcan society squirmed with self righteous distemper over the prospect?"

Spock looked away again, and muttered a dejected, "No. He is not."

"Then we must banish this imposter and restore the true Spock, mustn't we?"

"I do not know how," Spock admitted, his voice breaking.

"Yes, you do."

"I cannot," he mumbled.

"You can."

Spock's breath became rapid and ragged. His arms constricted around his body; his strength causing bruises as his grip tightened. Tremors overtook him, shaking him from head to foot. Spock pressed his eyes and lips shut, and turned his face to the wall. Heavy, thick salt-laden tears eked out from between tight lashes and started their slow way down his cheeks. He gaped, soundless, demoralized, afraid... until he finally drew a deep breath, raised his face to the ceiling, and let out a cry of anguish that filled the cavernous room. It reverberated along the scaffolding and echoed through the hollow spaces on the deck; a sound so piercing, so harrowing, so full of misery that Pa'shu jumped away in alarm.

When that single, long scream of inconsolable pain ended, Spock coughed and a mist of green blood splattered against the wall. The scream had torn his vocal cords and burst blood vessels in his throat.

Exhausted and emptied, he fought for composure, willing his breathing to steady and forcing his body to stop quaking. He brushed away his tears and watched the skin on his fingertips thirstily suck the moisture back into his body. He wiped his mouth to remove the trace of blood, before looking around. Sybok was gone, and Pa'shu's eyes were wide, her head tilted in a non-verbal question.

"Sybok?" Spock croaked over his enflamed vocal cords. There was no response. "Sybok?" Spock's head canted to the right and then up again. He rose slowly to his feet, using the wall to steady himself. He looked at Pa'shu, saying as calmly as he could with his ruined voice, "Sarlah du k'nash-veh. Tal-tor Dr. Surrey etek bolau." (4)

~*~*~*~

De'Vrille was manning the main Communications station when the call came from Starfleet Command. He set the silvery ear bud more securely against his ear so he could hear the transmission better. "_USS Enterprise_," he said. "CS De'Vrille, responding (5). Go ahead, Command."

~*~*~*~

Captain Kirk arrived at Medical Conference Room One for the meeting and found Dr. McCoy, Sarek, Sa'aat and Lieutenant Uhura standing outside the door. No Chapel, Kirk noticed. McCoy had his arms folded across his chest, and Sa'aat had his hand on the wall beside the door and his eyes closed. Kirk noted the white, **ROOM OCCUPIED** light over the door was already alit. If everyone was in the corridor, then who was in the room? His gut filled with a creeping dread. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Surrey's in there with Spock," McCoy said.

"-- Prepping Spock for the meeting?" Kirk said, hopefully.

"I don't know. When I got here to set up -- " McCoy gestured to the small stack of PADDS at his feet, "-- and tried to go in, Surrey pushed me out saying he needed a minute with Spock. Then he locked us out. That was over thirty minutes ago."

"Is Spock all right?"

"Don't know yet."

Kirk frowned and turned to Nyota, hoping she would have more information... even though he knew if she did, she would have already imparted it to McCoy. She looked worried but in control of herself. Being with Spock -- for what, two years now? -- was rubbing off on her; she could shield her emotions pretty well when she put her mind to it. She shrugged, shaking her head at him; she knew less than McCoy about the current situation.

"Where's Chapel?" Kirk asked.

"A call came in from Command as we were preparing to come here. She's handling it."

Kirk had to smile a little; he was impressed McCoy trusted Christine so fully. Not many CMO's (6) in the fleet would have allowed their Head Nurse to take a Command call. He gestured toward Sa'aat, and asked no one in particular, "What's he doing, by the way?"

"Spying on Spock," Nyota said, irritated.

Sa'aat opened his eyes and slowly turned his face away from the wall, although his hand remained where it was. To Nyota's accusation, he responded with a reserved, "The word _'spying'_ implies covert action, with hostile intent, to obtain secret information. That is not applicable in this instance. I am being vigilant on Spock's behalf and monitoring his status."

"You're imposing yourself on his thoughts and conversation without his permission," Nyota countered, although she knew that the only reason why she was verbally punching on Sa'aat was because she was frustrated, concerned about Spock, and envious of Sa'aat's ability to connect with him even through walls.

"So, what's Spock's status?"

"Captain!" Nyota scolded.

"It won't hurt Spock for us to know," Kirk said, looking to Sa'aat for an answer.

"Vacillating between agitated and dismal," Sa'aat replied. "He has walled himself into his mind, so reading him is difficult, but impressions do leak through."

"He's still in control of himself?"

"For the moment --"

"Stop it!" Nyota demanded. "Prying into his mind without his consent is awful!"

"Okay, at ease, Lieutenant," Kirk put his hands to Nyota's shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. He understood she was both anxious and protective of Spock, and she replaced her hot glare at him with a less insubordinate and more apologetic nod.

Faced with Nyota's unparalleled love for Spock, the captain was both overjoyed his friend and First Officer had someone who loved and accepted everything he was; and jealous, wishing he'd had more of a chance with Uhura himself. A beautiful, smart, tough in a she-bear-kind-of-way woman, Nyota set off a surge of longing and lust within him he could not easily ignore. As her captain, he understood the regulations regarding fraternization and nepotism, and the fine line between admiring a handsome woman and sexual harassment. Yet, just the sight of her made him regret the fact he had been more than a little inebriated when they first met; that she'd found him hiding under her roommate's bed in his underwear; and had witnessed him cheating on the Kobayashi Maru.(7) He had given her the impression that he was a horny, dishonest drunk. Sometimes, he wanted to kick himself in the –

The conference room door _swished_ open, and Dr. Surrey stepped out, letting it close behind him. Even dressed in his full uniform, Surrey looked rumpled. He ran his fingers through his curls before saying, "I need to talk to you all a little bit before we proceed."

~*~*~*~

"As I told you, sir, Dr. McCoy is engaged in a mandatory, closed-door meeting with Captain Kirk, and is unavailable at this time," Christine calmly repeated to the domineering man on the view screen.

Starfleet's Surgeon General, Myles Cameron, a medical doctor with the rank of Commodore (8), glowered at her, his bushy eyebrows meeting in the center of his forehead. His hands were folded on the desk in front of him, and the knuckles were going white from the force he was using to keep himself from banging a fist on the tabletop. A veteran of fifteen years, he was not used to subordinates acting so skillfully as a defensive lineman for their CMO. He was, at first, supremely irritated, and then a little envious of McCoy. He wished his staff were half as effective at intervening on his behalf as this Chapel seemed to be.

"Very well," he conceded, careful not to lose the angry gruffness in his voice (more from concern Chapel might see it as a sign of weakness than anything else). "I'll explain the situation to you, but I want to hear from McCoy as soon as his meeting ends. Understood?"

"Of course, sir," Christine answered with a smile designed to be both lovely and soothing.

The Commodore cleared his throat, "We've received an emergency transmission from New Vulcan."

~*~*~*~

Dr. Surrey told them Spock had suffered another hallucination while in Engineering, This was Surrey's way of revealing to the captain how Spock's condition was continuing to deteriorate, while at the same time demonstrating to him that Spock still had enough good sense to seek out help when he needed it. The cloud and the silver lining; Spock wasn't at all well, but he wasn't so sick that he couldn't recognize his own incapacity. Kirk wasn't mollified by the knowledge. "What kind of hallucination?" he asked.

"-- His stepbrother Sybok," Surrey said. "Spock then made the connection between this hallucination, and his previous one during the dinner with Sa'aat... So, he understands that Sybok has never actually been here."

"How did he react to that?"

"Better than I thought he might, but it still threw him for a few minutes. We'll be addressing it more in his next therapy session."

"He's agreed to more?"

"Yes -- of his own accord. He wants to continue the process to its natural, 'logical' conclusion, he said. He also asked me about the meeting today," Dr. Surrey continued. He told the others he had informed Spock they had additional information which might put his present mental state into clearer context, but which might prove to be more traumatic for him; and although Surrey wasn't sure they should go forward, Spock had insisted they proceed. He wanted a full accounting of what the others knew. "He said he sees no logic in withholding the truth from him any longer."

"Nor do I," said Sa'aat.

"Yeah, we know," Nyota crossed her arms before putting her fingers against her lips to keep from saying anything else. She was getting snarky, and she had promised herself she would project only thoughts of wellness and love toward Spock during this meeting. She couldn't fulfill her promise if she were harping on Sa'aat.

"What do you think, Doc?" Kirk asked Dr. Surrey.

"Spock's mind is under a great deal of pressure right now, and I'm worried the complete story of the trauma inflicted on him could cause him to suffer a shariv t'kae, a mind-storm, and his brain might rush to neutralize it. I also have no idea how his more fragile Human psyche will react to the news."

"Spock is the one living in his body," Sarek said. "He is not an undisciplined child without a defined character, or lacking in self-governance. We must trust him to know what he can and cannot endure, and assume he will ask for assistance if he requires it... as he had already done in the past. I, for one, will not continue to evade a conversation with my son about these unpleasant subjects. This all must be laid out in the light of day and dissected, like a dead mor'gril (9), before it starts to putrefy and irreparably poisons him."

"I agree," said Sa'aat. "Although I understand your emotionally-based reticence to, as you may see it, inflict more pain upon Spock by telling him the truth, you must acknowledge and understand that the majority of his present difficulties have been a result of the fragmenting and suppression of the memories associated with his ordeal on New Vulcan. If all is revealed to him, he will have truth and context to assist him in understanding and coping with what his mind is struggling to comprehend; he may then be able to take more appropriate and more effective action to cleanse himself of the upset. We -- Sarek and I -- will be here to lend stability, containment, and support to his Vulcan mind should he require it."

Although he, too, was apprehensive about what the truth might do to Spock, Kirk had to admit the Vulcans' logic was inescapable. "That sounds reasonable to me."

"Okay," Dr. Surrey said. "But I think I should inform you he's pretty pissed that so much information has been kept from him by so many of his friends and colleagues for so long."

"All the more reason we should not delay his education any longer," said Sarek.

Kirk asked, "Do I need to call Security, Doc?"

"No, I don't think so," Dr. Surrey said, wanting to squelch that idea before it went any further. "I would rather not have a lot of red-shirts around him, if we can avoid it, Captain. Spock already feels we're ganging up on him, and I don't want to feed into that by bringing armed guards into his line of sight..."

"Is he paranoid?" McCoy asked.

"In my professional opinion, no, not in the clinical sense; he's rational, lucid. He's not delusional. He is feeling vulnerable and a little persecuted right now, but when taking everything into consideration, who can blame him?"

"But you're still worried," McCoy said.

"Yes. I have no idea how he might react to this. He's a half-Vulcan under unprecedented stress. We have to be ready for anything."

When Surrey opened the conference room door, Captain Kirk was the first one through it. He noticed immediately that the large white conference table which had dominated the room during their last meeting was now pushed against a wall, and the chairs now formed in a horseshoe in the center of the floor. They had been in a full circle when Spock first entered the room in search of Dr. Surrey, and Surrey had explained to him that the arrangement had been meant to imply an air of informality, equality, support and cooperation, rather like a communal hug. However, Spock had found the configuration far too personal. The idea of having so many others around him, in a proximity that encouraged touching and invited other physical interaction, made him uncomfortable in his present state of mind. Dr. Surrey had accommodated Spock's request to adjust the setting, breaking out part of the circle to give Spock an "escape route" if he needed one.

Spock himself now stood opposite the large table, against the far wall, his shoulders slightly hunched and his hands hanging at his sides, balled into fists. His tight hands and lips spoke of the control he was exerting over himself even though his features looked calm and passive.

"Mister Spock," Kirk said in greeting.

Spock nodded, "Captain -- "

"What's wrong with your voice?"

"I strained it earlier this afternoon," Spock explained.

Kirk looked at Surrey, and the doctor gesticulated a _Let it go, I'll tell you later_ in reply.

As the others settled into chairs -- Surrey directing them to leave an end chair open for Spock -- Nyota walked to Spock, and the captain saw the Vulcan's body unclench a little at her approach. When Spock extended the ozh'esta to her -- not in front of him, as a command, but near his side, in an entreaty -- she smiled, touched her fingers to his and then gathered his hand in both of hers. He gently drew her closer to him and rested his forehead against hers in a gesture that was becoming commonplace between them when they wanted to be intimate in a public setting. Spock croaked softly in his ravaged voice, "I did not have the opportunity before to apologize to you."

"Apologize for what?" Nyota asked.

"For leaving you alone with Pa'shu last night, and not informing you of my location. I am sorry."

"Spock. Spock," Nyota said, pulling back just enough to focus on his face. "Although I do appreciate the courtesy of a message, you don't need to tell me where you are every minute of the day. Honestly. If you need to be alone; that's okay..." She looked around them. "Where is your shadow, by the way?"

"My what?" Spock asked, puzzled.

"Pa'shu," Nyota clarified.

Spock pointed to the corner nearest the door. The sehlat was nestled there with her head resting on her front paws, but her eyes were open and her brows twitched as she watched the people move around the room. Nyota thought it odd the sehlat had chosen a spot so far from Spock. On the other hand, maybe he had put the distance between them himself; she wasn't sure.

She also wasn't sure what she was reading through Spock's touch. He wasn't linking directly, but she was aware of agitation, irritation, confusion and concern radiating from him. Although undefined, the feelings were strong enough to leak past his personal, conscious barriers. "How can I help you?" she whispered to him.

"I believe you are doing all you can at this moment, k'diwa. Thank you," Spock, his voice cracking -- from his injury or his pent up emotions, Nyota couldn't tell -- replied just as quietly.

"Well, kids," Dr. Surrey asked them softly. "Are we about set?"

"Yes, Doctor." Spock raised his head and allowed Nyota to walk him over to the chairs. She took the seat next to Dr. McCoy, and Spock took the seat next to her on the open end of the horseshoe, where he wasn't surrounded. Surrey noted when they sat, Nyota pulled Spock's hand, still clenched between hers, onto her thigh. _She is displaying her support for him, and at the same time seems to claiming him in front of the others. _That was an interesting gesture; he hoped to be able to discuss it with her sometime in the future.

"I, uh, I know Dr. McCoy called this meeting, and I'll turn the floor over to you in a minute, Doctor; if that's okay," Dr. Surrey said before sitting down.

"Sure. Knock yourself out," said McCoy.

Sarek and Sa'aat looked at one another, unfamiliar with the colloquialism, but said nothing as Dr. Surrey continued. "Well, as I see it, there are three major pieces of information we have to impart to Mister Spock: one, the issue of the female T'Cloo; two, the issue of T'Pau; and three, the issue of Semuk. If we can agree to confine ourselves to those topics, I think it will help to keep the meeting moving forward, and prevent us from inundating Mister Spock with excess trivia. How does that sound to everybody?"

Kirk, McCoy and Nyota all nodded, Sarek bowed slightly and Sa'aat said, "Agreeable." They all looked to Spock waiting for a response from him. He glanced at Nyota and gripped her hand loosely. "Continue," he said.

"I just want to add, too, Mister Spock, if at any time during this meeting you feel overwhelmed, or distraught, or if you just need to take a break, let us know," Dr. Surrey said. "Okay?"

"Continue," Spock repeated.

"Ooookay," Dr. Surrey took the seat across from Spock. "Then let's proceed to issue one. Dr. McCoy?"

McCoy shifted in his chair, and shuffled through the PADD's he'd brought with him. He said, "This PADD contains photographs of the five females presented to you during your plak-tau. Sarek and Sa'aat informed me they've already named the females for you, so this might be a little redundant. The fifth of your plak tau females, Spock, the one Sa'aat helped us to identify as T'Cloo, was of the Sreem Maat." He passed a PADD to Spock displaying the woman's image along with the minimal data he had thus far on her.

Spock disengaged his hand from Nyota's to accept the device. He looked at T'Cloo's image, then flipped quickly through the pictures of the other females, before returning to T'Cloo. "Semuk's clan," he said as he glanced at her picture. He looked up at Dr. McCoy, noting, without expression, "You referred to her in the past tense."

"Yes," McCoy acknowledged. _Man, he picked up on that fast!_ "We believe she is deceased, although we haven't been able to verify the cause of death, and we don't know yet what happened to her body after Semuk claimed it."

"What cause of death is currently listed?" Spock asked. Adept at reading, comprehending and retaining written information at great speed, he had already looked for the answer on the PADD, but couldn't find it. He already suspected he had been the cause. Why else would the others have tried to conceal her death from him?

"We weren't sure at first," McCoy said. "But Sa'aat witnessed her removal from the surgical arena after your plak-tau, and he had his operatives on New Vulcan do a little more digging and -- "

Unsatisfied with McCoy's meandering response, Spock looked at Sa'aat for a more direct answer. "Her neck was broken, the force transecting the medulla spinalis above the C1 vertebrae," (10) Sa'aat informed him.

"Her brain was separated from her spinal cord," Spock translated.

"Yes. Death may have been instantaneous, although, she may have also survived for a short time and then suffocated."

"Good lord, Sa'aat," McCoy growled. He looked at Spock, trying to soften the blow. "We don't know she surv --"

"And I did this to her?" Spock asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

"A blow from you did the damage, yes," Sa'aat said. "However, her death occurred while you were under the effect of the plak-tau inducing drug. It was not a conscious or willful act on your part."

"Deaths sometimes do occur during the plak-tau," Sarek reminded his son. "Although tragic, such killings are not criminal in nature. There is no intent to cause injury; it is accidental. All Vulcans who have undergone Pon Farr and been in the throes of the blood-fever know and understand this. No one blames you, Spock."

_They are trying to reassure him,_ Surrey understood. He was grateful the Vulcans were far more sympathetic to Spock's dilemma than their outward appearance suggested.

Spock remained expressionless, looking at T'Cloo's image a while longer. He traced the outline of her unusually elongated ear and realized he had never heard her voice or recognized her unique scent or acknowledged her as an individual. He had killed her, yet he had not known her. "Willful or not, consciously or not," he said, his torn voice low, "if I caused her death, then I must be held accountable."

"Before you martyr yourself, Spock," Sa'aat said frankly, "remind yourself T'Pau was also there." Spock's head canted sharply to the right and then straightened again. Everyone saw it, but no one said anything. Sa'aat continued, "She witnessed T'Cloo's injury and did nothing to assist her. She is as culpable in her death as you are; even more so, since her mind was clear at the time. She knew what had happened, and although she had ready access to medical intervention, she did not use it on T'Cloo's behalf."

Spock accepted this with a slow nod, but was not placated. "Still, T'Cloo is dead," he said. "She... was older than I... Did she have offspring? A spouse?"

"No. Like many others, she lost her immediate family when Vulcan was destroyed," Sarek informed him.

"Then, she may have been seeking to reestablish her bloodline through me... and I interfered with that."

"Don't do this to yourself, Spock," McCoy warned softly. "It isn't and wasn't your job to give her -- or any other woman on New Vulcan, for that matter -- back what Nero had taken from her."

"But I was in the position to do so."

"So were hundreds of other males on the planet. The loss of part of her family's maternal bloodline isn't your fault."

Disconsolate, Spock turned off the PADD and set it by his foot. Whatever else he felt or thought about T'Cloo, he was going to keep to himself for the time being. He winced at the pain forming again in his pelvis, and then looked at Dr. McCoy. "Continue," he said, his expression flat, his breathing controlled.

"All right," McCoy said with a sigh. Although he understood Spock's proclivity for keeping his thoughts private, McCoy didn't like it. He might have felt better if Spock would just yell, or punch something -- preferably none of them -- or even swear a little bit. The Vulcan's self-absorbing silence made him nervous, both for his own safety and for Spock's. He'd seen Spock explode once and it wasn't pretty. (11)

When the doctor didn't immediately begin speaking, Spock prompted him with, "I believe the second topic of discussion was to be T'Pau, Doctor McCoy."

"Yeah, well," McCoy didn't know where to begin, so he said, "We've pretty much come to the consensus she's entirely off her nut."

Sarek and Sa'aat looked at one another, puzzled, and Spock explained, "Dr. McCoy believes T'Pau conducted herself in an atypical manner."

"I think she's insane," McCoy said bluntly. He glanced at Surrey, "I know that kind of an evaluation is more along the lines of your work, Doctor, but that's how I see it. When we were on New Vulcan, she was aggressive and irrational, and displayed an acute acrimony and hostility I believe verged on the psychotic."

"The current Transitional Council on New Vulcan seems to agree with your assessment, Doctor McCoy," Sarek stated. "T'Pau was deemed riyeht-kashik (12) and forced to relinquish her seat on the Council after declaring war on the Federation. Her behavior after her removal was also questionable, culminating in her sudden disappearance from her villa in the main city. She has recently resurfaced in a cave in the desert area of Mazhiv Solai."

"What? I didn't know about that," Kirk said.

"The news only came to me yesterday," Sa'aat explained.

"Well, I've heard of going underground," McCoy snorted, "but that's ridiculous."

"What is she doing in a cave?" Kirk asked.

"I have not yet had the opportunity to investigate," said Sa'aat.

"What does this have to do with me?" Spock interrupted, a slight pique entering his tone.

"She was the Abru-gla-tor (13) of your plak tau," Sa'aat said.

"Of that I am already aware."

"She was also your sixth," said Sa'aat.

McCoy wagged his head again at Sa'aat, "Don't you have any tact?" he asked. "You don't just blurt stuff out like that. Good God, man, have some compassion."

"I state facts," Sa'aat said. "Facts are neither compassionate nor dispassionate; they simply are."

While this exchange went on, Spock sat motionless, his rapid eye movements the only indication of the thoughts racing through his mind. He blinked as though confused, and then, focusing on Dr. Surrey, asked, "My sixth? What is he saying?"

"What does it sound like he's saying, Mister Spock?" Dr. Surrey asked softly, wanting Spock to acknowledge that he understood Sa'aat's words... but not wanting to have to say the words himself.

Spock shook his head. "No -- " he uttered, refusing to believe he had been mated to T'Pau along with the others. Nyota reached out to him, to comfort him, but he drew away from her touch and left his chair. He panted as he walked to the wall and placed his hand against it, bracing himself. He held his breath for a moment, in an effort to steady it, and shook his head again. "No -- "

"The genetic evidence is irrefutable, my son," Sarek said.

Spock continued to shake his head, rejecting the information. "There is no logic to it," he said. "What would possess her? What purpose could it serve? Why would she seek coition with me? Certainly not for procreation. She... she saw me as a half-breed, impure, deficient. You are mistaken --"

"There is no error," said Sa'aat.

"Both the medical tricorder and scanner support the conclusion, Spock," Dr. McCoy admitted. "You were bred to six females not five, and T'Pau was the sixth."

Spock let out a small, anguished gasp and his face pinched with brief but brilliant pain. Kirk, feeling a sensation that could only be describe as emotional whiplash streak through him, filling him with agony and confusion, put his hand to his head before it vanished as quickly as it had started. He glanced around the room and saw both Surrey and McCoy squinting; they'd felt it, too. When he looked back at Spock, the Vulcan was hunched over slightly, as though he had a pain in his gut but was trying to stand erect in spite of it, looking directly at Sa'aat. He said, "This was the information you saw on the tricorder when you came to me after the plak-tau."

"Yes," Sa'aat admitted. "Although at the time, there was not enough evidence to deduce the entire truth. I waited until I had the opportunity to identify the genetic signature as hers, and then found adjunctive information to support my conclusion."

Spock's gaze drifted to the floor, then rose again, hardening. "What adjunctive information?" he growled, his tattered voice going flat and dark.

"Before you were subjected to the conditions of the edict," Sa'aat answered, "I placed a vip-nei (14) in the surgical arena."

"Oh my God!" Nyota exclaimed.

"What's a vip-nei?" Kirk asked.

"A _vipladayek nei_ or 'recording seed'," Sarek explained. "It is a tiny pip-sized digital recording device used by the military for covert surveillance."

"What?!" McCoy shouted.

"Crap, Sa'aat," Kirk said just as loudly. "Why didn't you tell us that before?!"

Sa'aat ignored them, remaining focused on Spock. "I did not trust T'Pau and Semuk not to harm you. I wanted eyes on you at all times, in the event I was compelled to leave the room. The vip-nei recorded everything that happened. However, following your plak-tau, we were summoned back to the Cathedral so quickly, and then forced to leave the planet so suddenly, that I did not have the opportunity to retrieve the device until much later."

"Did you retain the recording?" Spock's voice sounded numb and distant, as though disconnected from his body.

"Yes," said Sa'aat.

"And you saw everything?"

"Yes."

Spock's stoic mask momentarily fell, and his large eyes filled with pain and humiliation as the truth struck him. "Then there is no question -- "

"None," said Sa'aat. "T'Pau abused her position as Officiate, and took you when you were too enervated to object or defend yourself."

Spock faced the wall, turning his back to the rest of the room, and for the second time Kirk felt a wave of anguish hit him in the chest and head, rattling through his body like the concussive force of a sound he couldn't hear. Throughout the ship, others were also stricken.

Christine was leaving the Medical Bay when, as Spock's psionic shockwave struck her, she stumbled and fell against a biobed. A med-tech rushed to assist her, asking, "Nurse Chapel, are you all right?"

She looked up at him with tears filling her eyes. "I don't know," she admitted. "It felt like something just came out of nowhere and slapped me in the face hard enough to knock me over."

At the same time, on the bridge, Lieutenant Sulu pitched forward in his seat banging his head against the edge of the equipment in front of him. Ensign Chekov, seated at the station beside him, jumped to Sulu's side. "Vhat happeened?" he asked as he eased the lieutenant away from the console.

Sulu blinked, shook his head and then put a hand to his forehead to make sure his skin was still intact. "Never felt anything like it -- " he said, breathless with pain. "It feels like someone just shoved a poker through my eye socket."

Chekov reached forward, pressing a key on the pad in front of Sulu. "Medical team to the bridge, please," he said.

Further away on C-Deck, as the emotional wave disbursed, a female crewman on her way to her fencing class went suddenly pale, staggered and crumpled to the floor in a heap.

In Medical Conference Room One, none of the Humans knew what to say to Spock to help ease his misery and mortification, so they all remained silent. He was still facing the wall, seemingly oblivious to the fact that others had had been struck by the uncontained surge of his emotions, and his breathing had escalated to a slight pant. His eyes were still closed when he finally turned his face back out toward the room and asked Sa'aat in low voice, "What else did you see?"

Nyota's look begged Sa'aat not to say any thing else. Sa'aat marked her expression, but answered Spock anyway. "When T'Pau finished, she initiated a kashek fo-dan (15), and allowed Semuk to enter the arena."

"Do I dare ask what that is?" Kirk said.

"A kashek fo-dan is a mental shield erected by the plak-tau Officiate to protect other males in the vicinity from the male in the blood fever," Sarek explained. "It forms a barrier through which the plak-tau male cannot see."

"You mean she rendered Spock blind?"

"Blind to Semuk's presence," Sa'aat said, "but otherwise seeing -- and feeling."

"Semuk was the third topic," Spock muttered. He grunted as a spasm of pain flashed through him, and put his hand to his right temple. "Continue," he croaked. When Sa'aat was slow to respond, Spock pressed his head harder and demanded more loudly, "What else did you see?!" Everyone in the room, except Nyota, gasped slightly at the anguish and rage emanating from his question.

"I think we need to take a break," Dr. Surrey suggested.

"No," Spock barked between tight teeth. Chest heaving, eyes narrow with confusion and shame and entreaty, he turned, braced his back against the wall, and said to Sa'aat, "K'nash-veh du vesht'ri'yeht-fam, osa-savensu. Var-tor nash-veh ra vesht gla-tor du." (16)

"Don't, Sa'aat," Nyota pleaded.

Sa'aat stood, looked down at the floor and said to Spock, "Sehmuk klush-tor du shar-tor sha'veh nekhaya, eh k'lash-tor du." (17)

Spock's whole body began to shudder. "Po ha?" (18) he uttered.

"Spahk, tu kupi-tor rai-vel -- Tu vesht tenai-tor fam." (19)

"Po ha?" Spock asked again, his voice quavering as he pressed his eyes shut. His mouth gaped as though he were in pain, but at first, no sound came from him except the wheezing of his breath past his torn vocal cords. He bent over, pressing both hands to the front of his head. "Po ha?!" he cried.

Nyota jumped up to go to him, but Dr. Surrey grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "Spock -- " she pulled against Surrey's grip. "Nam-tor la' nash-veh, k'diwa." (20)

The sclera of Spock's right eye suddenly turned dark green with blood, and with a painful wail, he fell to his knees. As his emotions burst through his mental barriers, the visceral shockwave hit the others with unbridled force, causing them to double over and clutch their heads. Once more, throughout the ship, crewmembers were struck down by the emotive blast. Only Nyota remained unaffected, and she used the opportunity to pull away from Surrey and rush to Spock's side.

* * *

(1) **T'Rea**: All most other Trek-sites state that Sybok's mother was never named, her name was listed on the Memory Beta site, which reads in part, _"...__**T'Rea**__ was a Vulcan female alive in the early 23rd century. She was a Vulcan princess who would become the first wife of Sarek, and would later become a High Master of Gol. She was the mother of Sybok. T'Rea and Sarek would mate only one time, which would result in the conception of their son, Sybok. Born in 2224, he was the first son of ambassador Sarek and T'Rea. The existence of this son was kept secret from Sarek, and T'Rea divorced Sarek when she ascended to the position of High Master of Gol. The marriage was annulled. (__TOS__ novel: __Sarek__..."_

(2) **Shaka**: the Vulcan word for "fiend" or "demon"

(3) **Kun-ut**: the Vulcan word for "marriage"

(4) **Sarlah du k'nash-veh. Tal-tor Dr. Surrey etek bolau.:** Translated from the Vulcan this means, "Come with me. We need to locate Dr. Surrey."

(5) **CS**: short for **C**ommunications **S**pecialist.

(6) **CMO:** short for **C**hief **M**edical **O**fficer.

(7) **Drunk, horny and dishonest:** These incidences were taken directly from scenes in the 2009 "Star Trek" movie.

(8) **Commodore**: a rank above Fleet Captain and below an Admiral, also known as a "rear admiral lower half" or a "Branch Admiral". It wasn't unusual for an officer of an admiral's rank to reign as the Starfleet Surgeon General (SSG). The SSG has authority over all of Starfleet Medical, and has the power to permanently relieve from duty any medical personnel he/she deems to be "incompetent". **Author's Note:** Surgeon General Myles Cameron is my own creation; he doesn't exist in Trek canon.

(9) **Mor'gril**: on Vulcan the mor'gril were wolverine-like animals that were psionically aware. If the mor'gril was not killed quickly, it would link its mind to its adversary and force the adversary to experience the full effect of its death.

(10) The **medulla spinalis** is the spinal cord. If the spinal cord is severed above the **C3 vertebrae**, breathing ceases and is no longer possible and the victim will suffocate without immediate intervention. According to Wickipedia, _"...Spinal nerve __**C1**__ is called the __**suboccipital**__ nerve which provides motor innervation to muscles at the base of the skull. C2 and C3 form many of the nerves of the neck, providing both sensory and motor control. These include the greater occipital nerve which provides sensation to the back of the head, the lesser occipital nerve which provides sensation to the area behind the ears, the greater auricular nerve and the lesser auricular nerve. See occipital neuralgia. The phrenic nerve arises from nerve roots C3, C4 and C5. It innervates the diaphragm, enabling breathing. If the spinal cord is transected above C3, then spontaneous breathing is not possible."_ In my original story, "The Ek'tevan Prerogative", T'Pau was present when T'Cloo was injured, and did nothing to intervene.

(11) This is in reference to the scene in the 2009 _"Star Trek"_ movie when the emotionally compromised Spock was goaded into a violent reaction by Kirk, on the bridge of the _Enterprise_, and tried to strangle Kirk to death.

(12) **riyeht-kashik:** the Vulcan term for "not right minded" or "insane".

(13) **Abru-gla-tor:** Vulcan term for "overseer". In my story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_, when Spock was going through the chemically induced plak-tau on New Vulcan, Sa'aat had explained_, "...T'Pau controls [the women]. That is her role in this interaction. She is... the Officiate here. She regulates which female comes into Spock's sphere of perception and at what time. She keeps the others quiescent until they are required, and sets those that have been successfully mated into a dream-filled sleep..."_ Nyota also told Dr. McCoy, _"When Vulcan males are in the plak-tau, they usually perceive other males as competition for the females, and will kill them if they enter the mating space… Sometimes the Officiate will have a guard with her, but she has to shield him with her mind so the male in the "blood fever" can't see him or recognize him as another male…"_

(14) **Vip-nei:** this is not part of Trek canon; I made up the device and its name.

(15) **Kashek fo-dan:** Literally translated from the Vulcan it means "mind shield". In my story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_, Nyota explained to Dr. McCoy, _"When Vulcan males are in the plak-tau, they usually perceive other males as competition for the females, and will kill them if they enter the mating space… Sometimes the Officiate will have a guard with her, but she has to shield him with her mind so the male in the "blood fever" can't see him or recognize him as another male…" _T'Pau had initiated a kashek fo-dan to keep Spock unaware of Semuk, thus allowing Semuk to attack him.

(16) **K'nash-veh du vesh'ri'yeht-fam , osa-savensu. Var-tor nash-veh ra vesht gla-tor du.: **Translated from the Vulcan this means, "With me you have never been false, honored teacher. Tell me what you saw."

(17) **Sehmuk kuhsh-tor du shar-tor sha'veh nekhaya, eh k'lash-tor du.:** from the Vulcan, this translates as, "Semuk beat you to secure your submission and then raped you."

(18) **Po ha**: "Po" is the Vulcan word for "why", "po ha," means "Why?" ("ha", the word "yes", is put at the end of a sentence to form a question)

(19) **Spahk, tu kupi-tor rai-vel -- Tu vesht tenai-tor fam.:** Translated from the Vulcan this means, "Spock, you could do nothing; you are not to blame."

(20) **Nam-tor la'nash-veh, k'diwa:** translated from the Vulcan it means, "I am here, beloved."


	13. Chapter 13

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

With thanks to my fanfic betas "Josie010" and "Farstrider" for their input, insight and editing tips! Again, the numbers throughout the text, like (8) refer to endnotes which explain terms and give readers extra background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN:**

A medical team rushed to the Conference Room with a gurney for Spock, while other medics, pulling on their white scrubs and lab coats as they left their quarters and other activities, raced from all corners of the ship to the Medical Bay to assist with the influx of new patients. Reports were flooding in from every deck: crewmen were passing out, stricken with blinding headaches, seizing, or suddenly nauseous. Others were experiencing moments of intense depression or rage; fights were breaking out among some of the crewmen closest to the effect's epicenter. The worst, Ensign Kolchak, a shuttlecraft pilot stricken with a seizure as he maneuvered out of the Shuttle Bay, had crashed into the wall, pitching face-first into the control console and suffering burns and lacerations.

Nyota knelt beside Sa'aat, who was cradling Spock's head in one palm and ignoring everyone else. She pulled one of Spock's hands between hers, trying to transmit devotion and supportive thoughts to him. Kirk, an arm wrapped around his middle to squelch the receding pain caused by Spock's emotional niagara, stood and helped Dr. Surrey to his feet. "You okay, Doc?" he grunted.

"I feel like I've been hit with a sack of potatoes," Surrey answered, "But I'm okay."

"Me, too." Kirk looked at McCoy. "Bones, what the hell was that?!"

"A shariv t'kae," Sarek, already recovered, informed them from where he knelt on the floor beside his son. Spock's body flopped like a rag doll as Sarek rolled him onto his back. Emerald blood oozed from his right nostril across his cheek, to his ear and then to the floor. His open eyes were unseeing.

"This looks like an atonic seizure or sudden akinesia (1)," McCoy noted to himself as he snatched a medical scanner from the table. He and Kirk staggered to join the others gathered around Spock. "The information was too much for him, Jim," McCoy continued. "What we felt was the back-splash from Spock's emotional overload.(2) His brain is now killing parts of itself to stay ahead of the trauma."

"It's kind of like firefighters using bulldozers to contain a wildfire," Dr. Surrey added. "They don't care what they crush or knock down as long as they can get the conflagration under control."

"Can Spock survive that?"

"That depends on how long it continues and how many brain cells die in the process," McCoy set the medical scanner to Vulcan physiology settings as Nyota admitted, "I -- I don't feel what you're all feeling." A part of her was thankful to be spared Spock's reflective pain-waves, though another part felt slighted, singled out. "I don't understand."

"Spock is shielding you," Sarek told her.

"What?" Nyota, McCoy and Kirk all said at the same time.

"He can split his mental focus like that?" Surrey asked, shaking his head in awed disbelief.

"He is, therefore he can," said Sa'aat.

"The Vulcan mind can compartmentalize --"

"Yes." Sarek looked at Nyota. "-- Especially a mind as unique as Spock's. Even in injury, he is capable of fortitude. As the brain seeks to cut off and isolate his more Human response to the trauma, his Vulcan mind reaches out to secure himself -- and you.

Sa'aat said. "Such was to be expected."

"Why?" Nyota asked him, shocked and confused.

"It is necessary," Sa'aat said, expressionless, without facing her. Nyota stared at him. "Your affection for Spock is a stabilizing force which he seeks to preserve. It will provide him with added stamina and an extra incentive to fight his way back to full consciousness when the time comes," he explained.

"Did... did you just give me a compliment?"

"I state only -- "

"'Only facts', yes, I know," Nyota blinked and frowned in bewilderment. "Thank you, anyway," she added.

McCoy, standing over her, activated the medical scanner and passed it over Spock's body. "There's a subconjunctival hemorrhage(3) in the right eye; minor hemorrhaging the right naris; seems to be epistaxis; no indications of hematemesis or hemoptysis.(4) Blood pressure is too high for Spock... There seems to be some odd contusions all over his arms... A five-pattern, like deep bruises left by hands... That's weird. Was he self-injurious?" McCoy asked Dr. Surrey.

"No," Surrey answered. "Not that I'm aware of."

McCoy continued with the readings. "...Some of his brain wave patterns are markedly reduced, almost like he's in a coma, but others are off the chart. There's an electrical cascade going on in some layers of the brain, while others are almost dormant, as though they're in a hibernation state. At least he's still breathing on his own; that's hopeful. Respiration is thirty-five breaths per minute, though; that's too elevated for a Vulcan in a restive state..."

"Spock?" Nyota said. There was no response.

"He is slipping further," Sarek said to Sa'aat.

"Maybe purgatory is better than hell..." Dr. Surrey muttered.

"We need to get him to the Medical Bay," McCoy said to Kirk. "I can't do anything for him here."

"I can," Sa'aat said, setting his fingertips against Spock's temple and pressing lightly.

"What are you doing?" Nyota asked, recognizing the prelude to a mind-meld. As Sa'aat closed his eyes and drew in a long breath, preparing to delve deeper into Spock's mind, she pushed his shoulder, trying to shove him aside. Spock was a fit Vulcan, but Sa'aat's body felt like solid cement and he didn't budge. "Wait. Tell me what you're doing." Sa'aat ignored her. "Listen, just because you complimented me, doesn't mean I'm going to give you a free pass to spelunk through Spock's head. Stop it, and talk to me!" She slapped Sa'aat's shoulder then drew her hand back, wincing in pain. "Sa'aat!"

"Sa'aat is an Adept. He can help," Sarek explained.

"Yeah, well, Lieutenant Uhura is Spock's medical proxy," McCoy informed the Vulcans. "So, in this case, she trumps Sa'aat. When Spock's incapacitated, whatever she says goes."

"I am his father," Sarek reminded him.

"I know, and I appreciate your position, Ambassador, but Spock didn't assign his medical rights to you; he assigned them to Uhura."

"Sa'aat, tell me what you're doing," Nyota demanded.

Half in and half out of the link, Sa'aat turned to her and said in a low voice, "Fai-tor-fam du t'whl'q'n kashek. Masu-vohrayek nash-veh bloau ish-veh, fa'marau nuh'glu-svi' ish-veh zaprah-tor." (5)

Nyota was caught between outrage and confusion, unsure what to do or say. McCoy prompted, "Whatever you're going to decide, make it fast."

"The longer you wait, the greater the risk of irreparable damage," Sarek told her.

"I... I'm not sure. I want to do what's best for Spock."

"At this moment, Sa'aat is best for Spock," Sarek assured her.

"Klopau, Komihn!"(6) Sa'aat said through his teeth.

"All right," Nyota's eyes filling with tears as she clutched Spock's limp hand in her lap. "Ek'yeht. Hi kuv du Spahk dash-tor, ugaya-tor Khosaar nash-veh, pi'Komihn il fam, nash-veh du dungi-shitau ne'le!"(7)

Sa'aat ignored her threat and set his mind in search of Spock's.

* * *

In the Medical Bay, Nurse Chapel skillfully managed triage, separating the severely injured from those dealing with temporary and diffusing maladies. As he entered with Spock and the others from the Conference Room, Dr. McCoy yelled, "Status report -- !"

"We've got it under control, Doctor," Chapel said over the heads of several nurses. "The effect, whatever it was, dissipated almost as fast as it appeared. Lots of cuts and bruises, a couple of fat lips, and a few concussions; but nothing life-threatening so far."

"Keep me apprised," McCoy called back to her and then directed the techs to take Spock into a private suite. Sa'aat, still connected to Spock through the link, moved alongside the gurney, while Nyota, Sarek and Kirk followed a step behind.

Christine flagged the captain down through the crowd, "Captain? Captain!" She gestured toward the com-link panel in the room. "There's a message for you from Command."

Kirk, putting aside his concerns for Spock for the moment, went to the com-console. He sped through the part of the transmission where Nurse Chapel had covered for him with Commodore Cameron, stopping when he got to "We've received an emergency transmission from New Vulcan." As Kirk listened, some of the less-occupied medical staffers and less-injured crewmembers gathered around, eavesdropping. He didn't mind; it concerned them all.

Dr. Surrey, thrashed from being so close to Spock's _"anomalous psionic discharge"_ -- the term had been coined by the medical staff in an attempt to explain what had affected the crew -- found a clear spot on the floor against a wall and sat down. When a male nurse finally came to attend him, he said, "I think the blast may have shorted out a few synapses, but otherwise I'm okay. Got any aspirin?"

"Old fashioned guy, huh?" The nurse smiled. "How about a little morphenolog(8), instead?"

* * *

In the private suite, Sa'aat and Sarek lifted Spock from the gurney and placed him on the biobed. The mechanism lit up with readouts on everything from his external injuries, to his autonomic functions and brainwave patterns. It was mostly colorful gibberish to Nyota, but she could tell several readings were well above or below the **NORM** marks on the gauges. She found a backless stool in one of the corners of the room, and rolled it silently behind Sa'aat then touched his back lightly so he knew she was there. Without opening his eyes or acknowledging her, he sat on the stool and rolled it as close to the biobed as space would allow.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Sarek said on Sa'aat's behalf.

She watched as Sa'aat fingered Spock's head with both hands, linked himself more soundly to Spock's mind and plunged in deeper, finding fixing points at which to anchor the both of them so they didn't slip off into oblivion. At the same time, Dr. McCoy watched the biobed monitors for changes in Spock's condition. Nyota looked at Sarek and said, "Tell me again Sa'aat knows what he's doing."

"I trust him with my son's life," he reassured her. Coming from Sarek, she knew it meant a lot. He did not make a habit of speaking in empty superlatives, or giving praise lightly or undeservedly. Still... she didn't entirely trust Sa'aat not to remove, with a surgeon's skill, those thoughts and memories he thought Spock might not need or desire.

"Vazgau-fam s'ish-veh," she said quietly to Sa'aat. (9)

"Hizhuk," he muttered from the depth of the meld. "Thakau-tor bolau nash-veh."(10)

"By the look on your face, I take it, he just told you to shut up," said McCoy.

Nyota nodded, her pursed lips impeding the expletives she wanted to say.

Commodore Cameron's transmission continued, "So far there are nearly eight-hundred Vulcan women suffering from _placenta previa_ and _placental abruptions_, and there might be a lot more in the wings. According to the statistical data we've received, over one-thousand six-hundred and fifty-three women were impregnated under the Ek'tevan Prerogative. New Vulcan's medical personnel were gearing up for a lot of concurrent births, but they weren't prepared for anything like this. They're overwhelmed, and have asked the Federation for doctors, nursing staff, portable diagnostic beds, and medical equipment. I've already issued a blanket order for all available staff in Starfleet Medical to assemble for immediate transport to New Vulcan. I've also contacted the Aesculapian Faculty on Io-Five to lend a hand, along with the Iatrical Conclave on Denobula (11). If we move now, we can have our medical bivouacs set up on the planet and operational within four to five days..."

"Well, there goes any chance of extended shore leave," one of the techs grumbled; Kirk glared at him.

The Commodore's transmission went on, "...We want the _Enterprise_ to run point on this mission, Kirk, and have Doctors McCoy, M'Benga (12), and Deerfoot coordinate the medical operations. They're going to need to give everyone a refresher course on Vulcan physiology and parturiency, so we can hit the ground running when the teams get to New Vulcan. Dr. M'Benga should be your best resource in that regard. Since the transitional government on New Vulcan isn't entirely settled in yet, we've asked for, and received, confirmation that all Starfleet personnel will be granted diplomatic immunity during this crisis, so there shouldn't be any problem, from a legal standpoint, with your people going back down there. I know that Ambassador Sarek and some of his people from the Fonn Vuhlkansu are already traveling with you... Just be careful not to step in anything too politically messy. If you need anything else along those lines, Ambassador Marissa McCormick, from the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs,(13) is making herself available to you as planetary liaison. Admiral Pike is seeing that the _USS_ _Merton_, the _Laurant_ _Despins_ and the _Martin James_ (14) are also at our disposal. They'll let you know when they can rendezvous with you as soon as they're packed up. This is a Priority-One mission, Kirk, so, no lollygagging. Get your people off Jagusch-McGillis and en route to New Vulcan as quickly as possible, and keep me apprised of your progress. Cameron, out."

Sighing, Kirk rubbed his hand through his hair. From those gathered behind him he heard Dr. Surrey say, "No rest for the weary, huh?"

Kirk shook his head, "Not on this ship."

* * *

Nyota, standing on the opposite side of the bed, watched as Sa'aat leaned in close and tiptoed his fingers across Spock's forehead, through his sleek hair and along his temples. It was as though Sa'aat traced Spock's mental processes to the back of his brain and led them forward again, applying a sort of phrenic compression and containment where needed. With each slow pass of Sa'aat's fingers, Spock's vital signs crept closer to the **NORM**, and his body seemed more alive, less mannequin-like. Through pure willpower and telepathic wisdom, Sa'aat was gradually hoisting Spock from whatever chasm his mind had thrown him.

As she watched Sa'aat, Nyota wondered if he felt the same things she did when Spock engaged her in a mind-meld, or if because he was also Vulcan, his experience was more profound. She had once tried to explain to Christine the intimacy of being linked in such a way. Of course, when Nyota had first told Spock that she had shared some of the details of their more sequestered interactions with Nurse Chapel, he had been mortified. Eventually, however, he let go of his angst when he discovered over time that Christine was a true and discreet friend to Nyota, who faithfully kept the shared information about their private moments private.

"There don't seem to be words in the Human vocabulary to accurately describe it," Nyota had told her. "Even the Vulcan words _maut-ugelik_ and _kaik-fam_ (15) fall too short."

The touch of Spock's mind, coupled with the heat and masonry of his body and the flood of sexual arousal, evoked an influx of unfettered desire, insatiable thirst, vivid hunger and seemingly limitless gratification. Linked with him, she could understand the elegant flash and dazzle of his brighter emotions, the soft curl of his humility, the hot ember of his slow-to-burn rage, the iron strength of his loyalty and honor, his luminous curiosity, his honeyed devotion and his dappled doubts. She could also hear the echo of dozens of simultaneous thought processes, and that just scratched the surface.

"When we're linked," she had told Christine, "even my eyesight changes. I can see the ultraviolet part of the spectrum. Did you know some flowers have color patterns Humans can't see? Spock sees them, and when we're linked, I can too... My hearing improves; even my sense of smell… Vulcan males give off a pheromone when they're aroused, like red-spice and frankincense. It kind of explodes off them, and drifts onto your skin like invisible pollen..."

All these things made Spock so beautiful to her, so incomparable, so wholly masculine, so uniquely "him"... and the idea of Sa'aat touching or sharing it made her insides wrinkle and her teeth grind. Yet, she knew, in his way, Sa'aat loved Spock, too. How could she begrudge him that? How could she demand Spock ignore or rebuff a man who was using every ounce of his mental strength and acuity to bring Spock back from the brink?

Although she appreciated Sa'aat's efforts and the curative good he was doing for Spock, Nyota also felt both envy and fear. She hated to admit to the small pinch of resentment at the back of her neck every time Sa'aat displayed his expertise, every time he bested her with a word or an action. She had told him she didn't consider him a rival, and that she wanted him to support Spock in any way he could. However, in the face of Spock's collapse, she wasn't feeling so generous. She didn't want to view Sa'aat as competition for Spock's attention and affection, but a part of her saw him that way nonetheless. Nyota suspected Sa'aat wanted Spock in every way she wanted him: spirit, brain, and body. And although she had stood against several females who had vied for Spock's attention, and had won handily, she had never had to battle a male before -- or a Vulcan. Oh, she trusted Spock -- he spoke often of his devotion to her -- but she wasn't so sure about Sa'aat.

Sa'aat was an enigma: a peace-loving Vulcan who killed for living; an Adept who could, at one moment, dredge an injured mind from the darkest psychological abyss, and in the next, with a simple flex of his ability, snuff out that mind as easily as blowing out a candle. If he wanted to, she suspected, Sa'aat could turn Spock's heart and mind to ice against her. But did he want to? Nyota was uncertain, and it was this uncertainty that made her suspicious and skeptical about him.

She had hoped she could develop a sort of sisterly affection for Sa'aat, for Spock's sake, but it was difficult when she felt she couldn't quite trust him. Semuk had trusted him, after all; and look what had happened to him! Yet, there he was, her skillful and cryptic challenger, sitting across from her on the stool she had provided, his hands on Spock's skin and his mind in Spock's mind. Even as she ached for him to do all he could to heal Spock, Nyota also wanted to rip Sa'aat away, wrap herself around Spock's body and claim and protect him.

"Gol-tor ish-veh, Sa'aat," (16) she whispered, her voice and mind pleading.

The door to the room opened silently and Captain Kirk poked his head in. "How are things going?" he asked in a hushed voice.

McCoy stepped over to him, answering just as quietly, "Sa'aat is working to stabilize him, Jim. I don't fully understand what he's doing, but it seems to be working so far. Spock's physical readings are slowly improving. His autonomic functions are working; he's breathing, his heart is beating..."

"What about his brain, his mind?"

"I can't even begin to assess that until he regains consciousness; and I don't want to use chemical interventions to bring him out of his present state just yet. Whatever the Vulcans are doing, it's helping him. I'll keep an eye on him, though, and let you know if anything drastic happens."

"Thanks, Bones," Kirk said. He leaned further into the room and said softly, "Lieutenant?" When Nyota gave him her attention he said, "I'm sorry... but I need you on the bridge."

Unconsciously, Nyota shook her head; then, fighting an upswell of anguish over being separated from Spock, nodded and said, "Yes, Captain." With a glance at Sa'aat, and projecting the thought, "_Prah muhl, k'diwa_" (17) to Spock, she reluctantly followed Kirk from the room.

As the turbolift carried them to the bridge, Kirk explained the transmission from Command and said, "I'll need you to coordinate communications between ships, and between the Federation and New Vulcan medical teams. I'm also going to need you to call our people on Jagusch-McGillis and get them back to the _Enterprise_ ASAP."

"Yes, Captain," Nyota said without looking at him.

After a moment of awkward silence, he tried to reassure her. "Spock... Spock is going to be okay. He has a strong, disciplined mind. He'll find a way through the mess in his head, and... He'll... He'll be fine."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Nyota asked him.

"Both," Kirk admitted. "But... I kind of suck at it, don't I?"

"Yeah, you really do," she answered with a sad but supportive smile.

* * *

Once Dr. Surrey had been discharged "as fit as you're ever going to be" by Dr. McCoy, he headed back to Conference Room One. He gathered the PADDs from the table and the floor, not wanting to leave such private information where anyone could just walk in and find it. He was heading from the room, juggling the devices, when something touched his foot and seemed to "vacuum" at his pant leg. Startled, he dropped the PADDs and heard an oddly resonant "_yaoup!_" from under the table. He bent down carefully to see what was there and came face-to-snout with Pa'shu.

The sehlat snuffled him, drew back slightly and then sneezed directly at him.

* * *

Pulling the crew from Jagusch-McGillis only took a few hours. After broadcasting the "all aboard" signal, the ship's sensors locked onto each crewmember's unique bio-signature. In Scotty and Ensign Chekhov's capable hands, the transporters plucked the crew from the planet's surface, even from among dense crowds and remote jungle areas, in groups of four, eight or twelve, depending on the pads activated and how close to one another the crewmembers were situated. "Everyone was back aboard in record time, people," the Captain said with an appreciative grin as he spoke to the crew through a ship-wide broadcast. "Thank you." He informed the crew of their new mission, and the _Enterprise_ broke orbit to rendezvous with the other ships assigned to accompany them to New Vulcan.

While Scotty kept the ship moving at full-capacity speed, and gave the engineers a primer on the construction of emergency medical bivouacs, risk analysis and personnel management, Nyota, at the long-range sensor and communications arrays in the bowels of the ship, assigned CS teams to specific tasks. Some were the point-of-contact, or POC, for transmissions from the _Martin James_, the _Merton_ and the _Laurant Despins_, while others with more xenolinguistic skills were the POC for the Ionian and Denobulan ships, the _Oc'c_ and _Greezai _respectively. Nyota also coordinated with Dr. McCoy a schedule of ship-to-ship seminars, including one on general Vulcan physiology and Vulcan pregnancies hosted by Dr. Deerfoot from the _Martin James_, and more in-depth collateral presentations broadcast from the _Merton_ by Dr. M'Benga on the Vulcan circulatory, respiratory, endocrine, nervous and reproductive systems. She then integrated the information from all these teams and entities -- including Engineering -- through her station on the bridge, so she could provide Captain Kirk with up-to-the-minute updates whenever he requested them.

She also set up a direct transmission-link with Ambassador McCormick of FAVA, aboard the _Laurant Despins_. The two had met before via com-link, when Spock and the members of the Fonn Vuhlkansu had fled New Vulcan after the enactment of the Ek'tevan Prerogative. Nyota didn't like the woman... probably because they were too similar to one another and grated on each other's nerves. Both alpha females, neither wanted to take orders or directions from the other. McCormick's ambassadorial rank won out overall, however, and Nyota graciously and dutifully accepted that reality. "Thank you for your cooperation," McCormick said, and stroked the Ambassador's badge at the shoulder of her uniform like a beloved cat. Nyota forced a smile and closed the channel so she wouldn't have to listen to the woman for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Dr. Surrey stepped into his bedroom from the bathroom, dressed in a kimono-like robe, toweling off his silver hair. He walked over to Pa'shu, who had pulled a cushion from his sofa with her mouth and was using it as her pillow. "Okay, let's try this again." He bent over so she could sniff his head.

She drew in several long snuffs -- and didn't sneeze.

"Hooray!" He smiled, ruffling the fur on her neck with his free hand. "See, sweetie? You were just allergic to my aftershave."

The sehlat roared.

"Oh, no, no," Dr. Surrey scolded her. "Use your inside-voice."

Pa'shu cocked her head to one side in puzzlement.

* * *

It was past twenty-one-hundred hours when Nyota, ordered by Captain Kirk to get some shut-eye, quit for the day. In her quarters, she changed into a comfortable batik-print shift and soft shoes, and was headed out the door for the Medical Bay when she noticed her desktop com-link's light was blinking. She skimmed through the messages, looking only at the ones from Captain Kirk and Dr. Surrey. Kirk's message thanked her for a job well done and added a short list of duties for her to tackle before they arrived at New Vulcan. Dr. Surrey told her that he had Pa'shu, and would continue to look after her for as long as required. Nyota left him a message apologizing for 'abandoning' the sehlat and thanking him for being so helpful and supportive.

When she reached the Medical Bay, it was nearly deserted. All of the activity from the afternoon had abated, and only two patients remained, S'Risha and Ensign Kolchak, the pilot who had crashed his shuttle into the wall of the Shuttle Bay during Spock's shariv t'kae. The ensign, covered with a clear mask that accelerated the healing of his burns and lacerations, but made him look like an android, was asleep -- or unconscious. S'Risha was awake, however, reading texts from the library computer through a PADD. Dr. McCoy had somehow rigged a small anti-gravity device to her belly that kept the placenta floating in the correct position so it couldn't pull further away from the uterine wall; the same way the chalazae could keep a yolk balanced in the center of an egg. Nyota saw lights blinking on the tiny appliance through S'Risha's blanket. The woman spared Nyota a glance and then returned to her reading. Since McCoy and Christine had already retired for the day, Nyota checked in with the on-duty nurse before going to look in on Spock.

The Vulcans had turned off the lights in the private suite, leaving it illuminated only by the biobed's monitors, and had increased the temperature to 32.77° Celsius (18) in order to make themselves and Spock more comfortable. Sarek was in a corner, in a lounge chair a nurse must have brought for him; Sa'aat, still sitting on the stool Nyota had brought him earlier, was still connected to Spock through his fingertips. In the monitors' glow, Sa'aat's skin looked ashy and drawn, and there were dark circles under his closed eyes. His lips were tight in a grim frown.

Nyota approached Sarek. He glanced at her, acknowledging her presence, but said nothing. She didn't know if he was trying to keep the room quiet and distraction-free for Sa'aat, or if he himself was in deep concentration, lending Spock and Sa'aat extra mental support. She remained silent in deference to him and looked at the readouts on the biobed.

Some of the information was in layman's terms, so even someone without a medical degree, like Nyota, could understand it. She could tell most of Spock's physical functions were back within Vulcan norms; his blood pressure, body temperature, and heart rate readings reflected the healthy man he was. The gauges tracking his brain activity, however, were not as encouraging. Some readings were still off kilter, in the "red zone" on the graphs.

The digital rendering of Spock's brain, next to the jagged scrawls from the EEG (19), displayed the areas where the brain's activity was most intense in luminous blue-white, while the less active areas were cast in pale yellow or dormant green. Although the blue-white zones were predominant, that, in itself, wasn't a bad thing. Nyota knew it wasn't unusual for the Vulcan mind to be active when the body was at rest; during both the po-zung sleep and coma-like tow-kath, (20) the brain worked feverishly to heal and restore the body as it lay in a quiescent state. What concerned Nyota were the tiny sun-spot-like blotches on the image: black flecks imbedded in the brighter portions that represented the now dead areas of Spock's brain, clusters of cells and synapses burned out by the fiery mind-storm. They seemed insignificant when compared to the active regions, but the sight of them -- undeniable proof of the damage done -- made Nyota want to cry. She put her hand to her lips to keep them from trembling, and carefully stepped closer to the bed.

Spock was in a medical-issue gown, covered in layers of blankets up to his rib cage. A medical pip applied to the upper left quadrant of his chest blinked white-then-blue, feeding data not only to the biobed, but also to other analytical computer systems that would sound alarms throughout the bay if Spock's life-support functions failed. His mouth was open, compensating for the fact he couldn't breathe easily through his nose yet, and his chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm that was only interrupted when some activity flashing through his brain made him gasp or briefly pant. Under his eyelids, his eyes moved, he was dreaming... or hallucinating. Nyota reached to touch his foot -- just to let him know she was there -- when Sarek caught her elbow lightly, startling her. "Im'roi k'nash-veh ko-fu," (21) he said in a hushed voice.

Nyota, stunned by his use of such a familiarity, nodded silently in agreement. They left the suite as quietly as they could. Sarek escorted her into the corridor before saying anything else. During his silence and out of respect for his Vulcan sensibility, Nyota didn't make a fuss over the fact he had called her _daughter_ -- a term of affection seldom if ever used by Vulcans in reference to non-Vulcan non-family-members.

"You must be tired after your long day," he said as they entered a turbolift together, "I know Humans require regular intervals of sleep within each twenty-four hour period, so I will not keep you. But I would like to ask a personal kindness."

Nyota couldn't help but smile; Sarek sounded just like Spock when he said that. "Anything, Ambassador."

"I am aware you view Sa'aat as a competitor, or as an otherwise untrustworthy individual." There was no sense in denying the truth, so Nyota said nothing. Sarek continued, "I will need you to put those feelings aside, however, as there will come a time, most likely within the next twenty-four hours, when Sa'aat will require your assistance in easing Spock out of his present state of akinesis. My request is that you make yourself available when Sa'aat calls upon you, and that you facilitate my son's recovery by cooperating with Sa'aat in whatever capacity he deems best."

"Since you know my mind, Ambassador Sarek, you know how much I love your son. You don't need to ask for any indulgences from me; I will do whatever I can to help Spock."

"I anticipated you might, but it would have been rude to make assumptions."

When the turbolift drifted to a stop, on the same deck where Nyota's quarters were situated -- _He's sending me away._ -- Nyota stepped out into the corridor leaving Sarek behind in the lift. She turned to him, however, asking, "Ambassador, would it bother you greatly if I someday became your daughter-in-law?"

"If I answered you in the affirmative, would you be less inclined to assist my son?" Sarek asked.

"No, of course not."

"Then I must assume Spock has chosen wisely," Sarek said, then pressed the button to close the door.

* * *

(1) **Atonic seizure or sudden akinesia:** According to the Epilepsy Foundation website, _"__**Atonic seizures**__ produce an abrupt loss of muscle tone. Other names for this type of seizure include drop attacks, astatic or akinetic seizures. They produce head drops, loss of posture, or sudden collapse. Because they are so abrupt, without any warning, and because the people who experience them fall with force, atonic seizures can result in injuries to the head and face..."_ **Akinesia** is "motionlessness" which is often a symptom of depression with catatonic features. According to **The Encyclopedia of Mental Disorders** on-line, _"... People who are severely depressed may show disturbances of motor behavior resembling those of patients diagnosed with catatonic schizophrenia. These depressed persons may remain virtually motionless or... may experience intense emotional pain from simply moving a finger."_ Neither of these are precisely indicative of what's happened to Spock, but they are the nearest comparisons Dr. McCoy can make based on his own medical knowledge.

(2)**Vulcan projection**: This notion isn't originally mine; it's based on the ST:TNG episode _"Sarek"_ (1990) in which Sarek is suffering the effects of the mind-debilitating "Bendii Syndrome" and loses control of his emotions. He starts projecting his feelings all over the ship, causing a kind of "epidemic" of violent emotional outbursts among the crew. According to the Memory-Alpha site: _"...A dangerous side effect of Bendii Syndrome is that the loss of emotional control can be telepathically projected to others... An attending Vulcan telepath can keep these projections under control, but when the sufferer is particularly stressed, the side effect can overwhelm such efforts."_ I figured: like father, like son... and had Spock project his intense emotional pain out around him like a shockwave. Sarek and Sa'aat were hit by the blast, but then helped to contain it so the non-Vulcans on the ship wouldn't be further affected.

(3) **Subconjunctival hemorrhage:** According to MedTerms on the web, _"...__A very common cause of a painless bloody eye usually first noticed by somebody else or by the person with it when they look in the mirror. The bleeding results from a break in a small blood vessel in the sclera, the white of the eye. This releases a tiny amount (less than a drop) of blood which is trapped underneath the conjunctiva, much like the blood in a bruise is trapped in the skin. It is called a subconjunctival hemorrhage since it occurs beneath the conjunctiva, the transparent membrane covering the sclera. A subconjunctival hemorrhage can occur with heavy lifting, coughing, sneezing, vomiting or for no apparent reason. It looks bad and may be frightening but is not dangerous and leaves no residual change in vision. There is no discharge from the eye...and everything returns to normal within 3 weeks as the blood is absorbed."_

(4) **Epistaxis, hematemesis or hemoptysis:** These are medical terms. Epistaxis is a nosebleed. Hematemesis is vomiting blood. Hemoptysis the expectoration (spitting) of blood from the lungs, trachea, larynx or bronchi. Dr McCoy has ruled the major concerns of vomiting up or coughing out blood, and decided that Spock's nose is bleeding. The nose bleed is a reaction to the pressure the emotion trauma caused inside of him (as is the hemorrhage in his eye). They're troublesome and look horrible, but they're not life-threatening.

(5) **Fai-tor-****fam**** du t'whl'q'n kashek. Masu-vohrayek nash-veh bloau ish-veh, fa'marau nuh'glu-svi'ish-veh zaprah-tor.**: From the Vulcan this translates as, "You don't know anything about the Vulcan mind. I must anchor him before he drifts too far inside of himself to be retrieved." **NOTE: **When referring to themselves, Vulcans call themselves "Whl'q'n" (this, according to the Vulcan Language Dictionary, VLD)

(6) **Klopau, Komihn!:** translated from the Vulcan it means, "Decide, Human!" or "Make a decision, Human!"

(7) **Ek'ye****h****t. Hi kuv du Spahk dash-tor – ugaya-tor ****Khosaar ****nash-veh, pi'Komih n il fam, nash-veh du shitau ne'le**: translated from the Vulcan this means, "All right. But if you hurt Spock, I swear to Khosaar (the Vulcan god of war), puny Human or not, I will put you down."

(8) **Morphenolog:** an analgesic used to alleviate pain. (DS9: "Life Support")

(9) **Vazgau-fam s'ish-veh**: from the Vulcan this translates as, "Don't steal from him." (Or, more literally, "steal not from him")

(10) **Hizhuk... Thakau-tor bolau nash-veh.:** from the Vulcan this translates as, "Quiet. I need to concentrate." (Or more literally, "Quiet. To focus needs this one.")

(11) **Denobula:** According to the Memory Alpha site, "...**Denobula** is a planet and the homeworld of the Denobulan species. Located in the Denobula Triaxa system, the planet has a single large, inhabited continent..." Dr. Phlox, who served aboard the _Enterprise_ under Captain Archer, was a Denobulan.

(12) **Dr. Jabilo Geoffrey M'Benga:** in TOS Dr. M'Benga served aboard the _Enterprise_ under Dr. McCoy, and was one of the few Human Starfleet doctors who specialized in Vulcan medicine. **Author's note: **It is unknown, at this point, if he was still studying (in the alternate reality) on Vulcan when it was destroyed, or if he was already actively serving aboard the _Enterprise_, so I took some poetic license with the character in my story and put him off-planet as the head of his own medical facility on Earth, thus making him available to go to New Vulcan and assist with the crisis there.

(13) **Ambassador Marissa McCormick**, of the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs (FAVA): she was a character I created in my other story "The Ek'tevan Prerogative"; she's not canon.

(14) **The **_**USS **__**Merton, USS Laurant Despins**_** and **_**USS Martin James**_**: **these are ship's names that I made up myself. The _Merton_ and _Laurant Despins_ are named after family friends, and the _Martin James_ is named after one of my younger brothers. All of these ships are medical frigates.

(15) **maut-ugelik and kaik-fam: **"maut-ugelik" is Vulcan for "brilliant; shining; full of light" and "kaik-fam" is Vulcan for "without equal".

(16) **Gol-tor ish-veh, Sa'aat:** translated from the Vulcan this means, "Help him, Sa'aat" or "Assist him, Sa'aat."

(17) **Prah muhl, k'diwa:** from the Vulcan this translates as "get well, beloved".

(18) **32.77° C** is approximately 91° Fahrenheit.

(19) **EEG**: short for electroencephalogram, a graphic record of brain wave activity.

(20) **Po-zung and tow-kath:** The po-zung is explained in Chapter 4 of this story and in my previous story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_. The "tow-kath" is from Trek canon, specifically the TOS episode _"A Private Little War"_. It's a deep healing trance Vulcans can put themselves into. In order to recover from the trance, however, they need great physical stimulation. In the TOS episode, when Spock put himself into a tow-kath after being shot with a flintlock, he required his doctor to slap him hard in the face, over and over again, in order to pull himself out of the trance.

(21) **Im'roi k'nash-veh ko-fu**: from the Vulcan this translates as "Walk with me, daughter."


	14. Chapter 14

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

Hey, everyone, in the next chapter or so **Pa'shu's cubs are going to be born**! There are two of them, a male and a female, and **I need names for them**. Whoever sends me a name, that I then choose for one of Pa'shu's cubs in my story, gets a one-of-a-kind Pa'shu-cub drawing (well, the way I draw on the computer is more like "scribbling", but you'll still get an image of the cub you name!)

Thank you, as always, to my great betas Farstrider and Josie!

And, as with the other chapters, the numfbers you see throughout the text, like (8), are for end notes that explain terms or give readers more background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN:**

Nyota did not sleep well during the night and got up early the next morning in order to check on Spock before her duty shift. When she arrived in the Medical Bay, Christine, looking bright and crisp in her medical Whites, was already on duty. "You couldn't sleep either, huh?" Nyota asked.

"With everything going on aboard this ship, are you kidding? Like the old saying goes: if you rest, you rust."(1)

"We shouldn't have to worry. Neither of us can ever sit still long enough to rust."

"Isn't that the truth?" Christine chuckled, setting a hand to her hip. "But you're not here to chit-chat with me; you're here to see your Spock. He's right where you left him."

_Your Spock_, Nyota loved the way that sounded, and she smiled at Christine tiredly. "How is he doing?"

"Stable. His readings are remarkably good, everything considered, but he's still unconscious. Dr. McCoy can give you more details when he gets in. He's setting up in the conference room for the first ship-to-ship confab. Oh, he's in one of his moods, so... brace yourself."

"Did he get any rest last night?"

"I doubt it, but if you want to see a real over-achiever, check out Sa'aat. He hasn't budged from Spock's side in the last sixteen hours. I didn't think any being could hold the same position for that long." Christine sounded almost proud and in awe of him; which, for some reason, irked Nyota. She would have stayed at Spock's side if her duties had allowed it. Just because Sa'aat had the time to cling to Spock like a lamprey didn't mean he cared about Spock more than she did.

Nyota felt a pout coming on, but flattened it, setting her lips hard against one another. "Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Always on your side, honey," Christine promised. "I'm just saying Sa'aat is doing his best for Spock, and regardless of how he rubs your fur the wrong way, you need to give him an occasional thank you."

"You're just saying that because you like him."

"Mature," Christine scolded. "From what I heard, Sa'aat gave you credit yesterday for your strength and devotion. It wouldn't kill you to do the same."

"I can't snuggle up to him... I don't trust him. I don't like the way he hangs around Spock."

"_Hon-ey_. Do you love Spock?"

"What? Of course I do."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes, but --"

"Has he ever been unfaithful to you?"

"No."

"Then who gives a flying rat's asteroid if Sa'aat is dippy over him? What Sa'aat may or may not feel has no impact whatsoever on your relationship with Spock. So get over yourself, get in there, kiss your boyfriend, and when you have a minute, give Sa'aat the thanks he deserves." Christine smiled, softening the blow. "You know I'm right."

"Of course you're right."

"And it just kills you, doesn't it?"

"You have no idea --"

Christine laughed, patting Nyota's arm. "Good. Now, vamoose, before the captain starts calling here, asking me to track you down."

Nyota quietly entered the private suite. Sarek had, at some point, left to clean up and change his clothes. Seated on the lounge chair, he was now wearing a liver-colored Vulcan tunic over dress pants and polished, dark brown boots. The tunic's high collar rose almost to his earlobes, and the bell sleeves ended at the mid-point of his hands. Sa'aat, in the same clothes he had on the day before, however, was just as she had left him.

Still seated on what now must be an exceedingly uncomfortable little stool, Sa'aat, still connected to Spock through his fingertips, frowned forbiddingly. As far as Nyota could tell, Christine was right: he hadn't moved an iota. His skin looked drawn and arid, as though someone had let the air out of him, and the pronounced dark circles under his eyes made him look rather skeletal. Even though she wasn't a doctor, Nyota recognized the possible symptoms of dehydration. If she remembered her Vulcan physiology, they needed at least one liter of water, preferably more, every three days to maintain minimal hydration. As far as she knew, Sa'aat had last eaten three days ago when he had dinner with Spock.

Just as she made a mental note to have tea or plomik broth sent to the room, Gilgreni, smelling of soap and dressed in a clean, neat Vulcan steward-gray suit, entered, pushing a small cart bearing a tea set, a large urn of hot barkaya marak (2), three yeraks (3), and a small lamp with a flat, fat wick in its center. He maneuvered the cart into a corner, quietly arranged the tea set and urn, and then carried the lamp over to the small bedside table. He lit the wick with a pencil-like handheld laser.

The lamp, made from a single polished stone and carved with the Vulcan symbols for sukmakhau, psthan, and s'thaupi (4) was primitive. Its open-flame construction seemed incongruous with the modern fittings of the room, almost like Aladdin's lamp from the Arabian Nights, and Nyota half-expected a smoky djinn to appear from it. Its flame, guttering and leaning with even the smallest movement of the air, was tinged blue-green.

"It is called a _yonet_," Sarek quietly answered her unspoken question. "A meditation lamp. Spock does not have one?"

"He uses an asenoi and tho'san stone (5) when he has the time to set them up properly," Nyota said as Gilgreni leaned past her, handing a yerak of the creamy soup to Sarek. "Otherwise, he does breathing meditations."

Sarek accepted the bowl with both hands and a small bow. He held it to his lips, taking a sip. "Ohrom," he graciously complimented the server, as Vulcan etiquette prescribed.(6)

"It was fortunate the ship's galley had the required legumes in store." Gilgreni placed a second bowl beside the lamp where Sa'aat could retrieve it. "I did not have to replicate anything." He had brought a third bowl for himself, but offered it to Nyota instead.

She smiled, grateful for the gesture. "I've already had my breakfast," which wasn't true, but she didn't want Gilgreni to give up his meal. The pilot gave her an understanding nod and positioned himself near the cart, trying to be inconspicuous as he noiselessly sipped his soup.

"I am pleased to hear Spock still engages in regular meditative respites," Sarek said.

"He meditates almost every day, Ambassador; usually right after his shift ends. He's even tried to teach me a few techniques. Most of the time, I just end up going to my happy place, though."

"_Happy place?_" Gilgreni echoed.

"I imagine, in as much detail as possible, the place where I'm most comfortable and peaceful; a place where I feel safe and happy. Then I picture myself there, and try to reap the benefits of the relaxing environment."

"A visualization."

"Yes."

"I see. And what does this _happy place_ seem t--" Sa'aat's deep breath and loud exhale interrupted him. The smell of the soup had apparently worked its way through Sa'aat's consciousness, bringing him back to the real world.

He slowly opened his eyes, but it took several minutes before he was able to focus again. He gazed down at Spock for a few seconds, and then lifted his eyes to Nyota.

She frowned slightly when she saw -- projected through Sa'aat's obsidian eyes and the uncharacteristically soft set of his thin lips -- what looked like _Spock_. There was an unguarded, fond recognition in his expression, a mix of sentimentality and desire, and she was uncomfortable observing those familiar things in this other man's features.

Sa'aat blinked, and then carefully lifted his fingertips from Spock's head, one at a time, detaching himself from Spock's mind, bit by bit. As their link faded, so did the amity in Sa'aat's expression; as his personal barriers lifted, his usual unresponsive façade returned. He let his arms drop to his sides with a quiet, un-Vulcan groan. He had been in the same position for more than half a day; his muscles ached and most of the circulation had gone from his hands. To reset the sinews, he bent at the waist, touching the floor with his fingertips, and gave his body a long cat-like stretch. He rose, flexed and curled his fingers a few times, and pulled his hair away from his face and shoulders before picking up the yerak Gilgreni had set beside the lamp.

Sarek waited until Sa'aat had finished most of his soup before asking, "How does he fair?"

Sa'aat swallowed, licked his lips, and then held the bowl out to Gilgreni, who hurried to refill it. "Better than I had anticipated after such a fall, Ambassador," Sa'aat said, but his voice seemed weightless, wraithlike, emaciated by exhaustion. "Your son's mind is... enigmatic. Replete with all the Vulcan intricacies, yes, but the Human element adds levels of convolution that are sometimes difficult to navigate. There is also his strength of Self with which to contend." Sa'aat's eyes drifted over to Nyota, "He does not release himself easily to others."

"He has always been thus," Sarek agreed, looking at Nyota and then back to Sa'aat. He knew they vied for his son's attention, but he could only guess how fiercely they might fight one another, or whether they could put aside their personal agendas to assist Spock. "I have always found his willful core to be one of his better qualities."

"It does seem to serve him in situations such as this," Sa'aat agreed. "A lesser man would have been killed by that storm." He finished his second helping of soup and handed the bowl to Gilgreni. "Tea, please."

Nyota stepped toward the cart. "Let me pour," she said, polite but determined.

Sarek's eyebrows rose at the offer, while Gilgreni looked vaguely put out even as he moved out of Nyota's way. Sa'aat expressed nothing, but he put a hand on the bed as if bracing himself for... he wasn't sure what.

Spock had conducted this less-formal mealtime tea service for her several times, and Nyota remembered everything: from placing the fingertips of the non-pouring hand over the top of the teapot, to pouring the tea in a measured pace for a full two...three... four... five... seven seconds, to turning the pot's handle toward the host when she was finished. A small, herb-scented cloud rose from the cup as she handed it to Sa'aat on her open palm. Nothing in his face indicated he was impressed or surprised by her performance; however, he did accept the tea. It would have been considered both a rejection of the beverage, and of her as a person, had he not.

"Making an effort." His tired voice was flat.

"Are you speaking about my effort with the tea -- or your effort with me?"

Sa'aat was silent for a moment. "Both." He lifted the cup in a curt salute to her before drinking.

"Changed your opinion of me, have you?"

"No," Sa'aat said frankly, and Nyota bristled. "However, I now have a greater understanding of Spock's perspective on the matter. It is in consideration of this new frame of reference that I revise my previous holding."

"You mean you touched his mind, found out he actually has feelings for me, and you're now willing to accept that fact."

Sa'aat took a long sip, challenging and measuring Nyota with his eyes. He swallowed and stepped toward Sarek without responding.

Nyota stuffed down the irritation he managed to evoke -- _Ooo, that man!_ -- and turned to Spock. Her thoughts and emotions softened immediately. He looked much as he had the night before, still in the medical gown, still fitted with an extra autonomic functions monitor; but his hair was tousled, and she wondered if he had tossed his head in his sleep. She raked his bangs smooth with her fingernails. His skin felt hot and dry, which was normal for him, and he was breathing evenly. His eyes were closed and unmoving. "Is he sleeping or comatose?"

"Both and neither," Sa'aat answered. "Do not wake him. He requires stillness."

"It wasn't my inten--" Nyota caught herself, and tempered her tone. "I won't wake him," she promised.

She carefully pealed the gown from Spock's shoulder to watch the tiny flashing monitor there before she tentatively slipped her hand under the material. She rubbed small circles into his skin lightly, bringing her fingers together periodically to feel the silk of his chest hair between them, and twirl it softly. Spock usually enjoyed this type of gentle, fondling foreplay; and she hoped somewhere inside his mind he could acknowledge and remember her touch. She leaned forward and whispered against his ear, "La'nash-veh, Spahk-kam,"(7) and then kissed his cheek, the stubble of his one-day-growth of beard pricking her lips.

Sa'aat stifled an un-Vulcan sigh; to him, her actions smacked of flagrant and unnecessary spectacle. He finished his tea, abruptly handing the cup to Gilgreni. He then tilted his head and jutted his chin toward Sarek -- a display of strength and control, even though he was enervated -- and said, "I must take leave to prepare for the Katau Fa'ark (8), Ambassador, with your permission."

"Of course, Sa'aat. Let Gilgreni know if there is anything you require."

Sa'aat glanced at Gilgreni who bowed to him, and let his eyes sweep past Nyota and Spock before leaving. As he went out the door, McCoy came in with Spock's medical chart in hand. He took one look at the people and food in the room and demanded, "What the hell is this? Get this food out of here!"

Nyota tried to explain, "Doctor, Sa'aat hadn't eaten, and..."

"That's what the mess hall is for. This is a hospital room, damn it, not the confounded Beaumont Inn!(9)" McCoy goggled at the lamp and hollered, "And put out that fire!"

Gilgreni made a noble, if not entirely successful attempt to disguise his repugnance toward the doctor's emotionalism and language, before gathering the trappings of the meal onto his cart, and blowing out the lamp, which he left on the bedside table. With a solemn nod to Sarek, and a pointed look over his shoulder at McCoy, he rolled the cart silently from the room.

"My God, McCoy," Nyota said under her breath. "You scared the crap out of me! Good thing your bark is worse than your bite."

McCoy's expression softened a little, just for her, as he grumbled, "Sorry, kiddo. No sleep and too many Vulcans make McCoy a very angry man."(10)

"Can I at least a few questions before I go?"

"Sure." He patted her arm in apology, then reached past her to tap one of the biobed's gauges to make sure it was displaying correctly. It was.

"It all looks better than it did last night," Nyota prompted, as Sarek watched the Humans in silence from his chair.

"Yeah. Physically, Spock seems fine," McCoy answered, "although his blood pressure is still a little elevated, and he'll probably have one helluva headache when he comes to."

"What about the bleeding in his eye and nose?"

"They're not serious; blown out blood vessels, likely due to stress and the inner exertion from his mind-storm. We cauterized the vessels in his nose, and his eye will heal by itself in a week or so."

"What about all this?" Nyota pointed to the tiny black splotches on the digital display of Spock's brain.

"Well, the Vulcan brain is set up differently from the Human brain, of course, but the blackouts seem to be confined pretty much to the area around the hypothalamus." McCoy tapped the monitor to activate a drop-down menu and selected two items with his fingertip. The monitor's overall display broke into quadrants showing the EEG, an image of the overall brain structure, a cut-away view of the brain with a portion lit in neon-green, and a different section of the cutaway shown in neon-yellow. The black sun-spot effect Nyota had pointed out was clustered along the edges of these two colored areas.

"These yellow and green structures make up the Vulcan limbic system," he explained. "The green is the Vulcan equivalent of our hippocampus. In Humans, the hippocampus is seahorse shaped -- which is where the name came from -- but in Vulcans, as you can see here, there are two seahorse-shaped structures linked together at the 'tail'. Over here, in this other display, these two small, yellow almond-shaped sections are the Vulcan equivalent of our amygdale. The amygdale and the hippocampus are involved with the creation and retention of memories and spatial recognition, and they connect directly with the hypothalamus to regulate survival behaviors, sleep, emotions, sexual activity and stuff like that. Spock's shriv t'kae seems to have burned through some connectors in those areas."

"So... what does that mean?" Nyota asked. "He might not remember anything? He might not be able to control his emotions? What are we dealing with exactly?"

"There's no way to tell what damage was done -- if any damage was done -- or to what degree until he regains consciousness and we can run some tests on him."

"So even if Sa'aat can bring him out of this…this inert state, Spock still isn't out of the woods."

"Exactly."

"You'll let me know if there's any change?"

"You bet."

"Thank you, Doctor." Nyota looked to Sarek. "Can I escort you anywhere, Ambassador?"

Sarek remained seated, crossed his arms over his chest, and slipped his hands into the bell sleeves of his tunic. Even to those who knew nothing about Vulcan body postures, his physical message was clear: He wasn't going anywhere.

McCoy leaned in toward Nyota and said into her ear, "You know, as Spock's medical proxy you get to decide who's on the visitors list and who isn't. You can demand the Sarek go, if you want to."

"I'll do no such thing." Nyota looked back to Sarek, whom she was sure had overheard every word of that short discussion. "Please, stay as long as you like, Ambassador. I'll come back during the lunch break later."

In his chair, Sarek steepled his fingers in front of him, closed his eyes, blocked out the Human noise around him, and soundlessly transmitted healing energy to his son.

* * *

Sa'aat's long-legged stride took him well away from the Medical Bay in short order, but he was directionless, with no specific destination in mind. Distancing himself from Lieutenant Uhura was his only imperative.

"Plokh! Duh'es!"(11)

He stopped, standing with his hand against the bulkhead for a moment. He pulled the hand away almost immediately, however, when thoughts and conversation from the room behind the wall started infiltrating his mind. His personal barriers were worn thin; he needed time to rebuild them before he dared to guide Spock through the Katau Fa'ark. And, he would admit to himself but to no one else, he needed time to put distance between himself and the sullen acerbity The Woman provoked in him.

He had been in Spock's mind, of Spock's mind, and The Woman had been -- was -- prominent there. _Nyota Uhura. K'diwa. _Even with his mind in disarray, she occupied Spock on some level at every moment. There was not a breath he took that did not echo with her name; no visual memory or imagining that he did not compare to her. His mind sought to shield her even as parts of it died and sealed themselves off; and even as Sa'aat fought to anchor him, in their joined minds Spock's hands reached out, not to him, but to her...

Standing in the corridor with his eyes closed, Sa'aat slowly breathed self-governance back into his mind and body.

In his rational mind, Sa'aat had known all along that Spock was _tah_ (12); that he would never reciprocate Sa'aat's attraction and affection for him. They were _t'ka vishizhau, wi t'ka vishizhau fam_ (13); powerful, vital males with distinctly different preferences. Nevertheless, when Sa'aat had encountered Spock on New Vulcan he had allowed himself the luxuries of vanity and fatuity and self-deception. Humans were not as long-lived as Vulcans, he had told himself, and so even if Spock bonded with The Woman and spent a lifetime with her, she would fade, grey and die... and Sa'aat would still be there. He had told himself he could - - he would -- wait for Spock. When she was gone he would be there for Spock, and Spock would fold himself into him, and they would be as t'hy'la, even beyond death. That was fantasy, of course. _Istau-bosh Nash-tor-ik_.(14) He knew better. "Plokh," Sa'aat muttered, neither happy nor sad, simply stating a fact.

He started walking again.

By the time he reached a turbolift and the door whisked open to receive him, he was himself once more: moderated, focused, in control. "Shuttle Bay," he said to the elevator.

* * *

The morning's medical confab started on time, even though the frigates dispatched by Starfleet were still en route and hadn't yet rendezvoused with the _Enterprise_. From the bridge, Nyota coordinated the ship-to-ship broadcast and real-time communications links, making the conferences viewable to anyone aboard the ship who wanted to see or participate in them. Even as she ran general scans for other transmissions in the vicinity, and facilitated the routing of the routine reports and com-link messaging, she kept a communication's bud in one ear to listen in on the discussion herself.

In Medical Conference Room One, all of the _Enterprise_'s off-duty medical personnel had been invited to sit in with Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel as they viewed the day's presentations on the large com-link monitor, and for most of the morning, there was standing-room-only. Nurses and techs sat in chairs or on stools, stood against the walls, and even clustered around the door to get a first-hand view of the proceedings. When Captain Kirk joined them, he had to squeeze through the crowd to stand behind McCoy's chair. Nurse Chapel offered him her seat, but he waved her off with a grateful smile.

The image on the main viewer was broken into segments showing the main speaker in the center, and the participants from the other ships in small images all around the speaker. Kirk got his first look at the Ionians aboard the _Oc'c_ and the Denobulans aboard the _Greezai_. He had met a Denobulan at the Academy – an offspring of the extended family of Dr. Phlox, a medical officer who had served aboard the _Enterprise NX-01 _in the mid twenty-second century -- but he had never seen Ionians before. They were tall creatures with thin, pipe-like bodies and tiny waists making them look like living hourglasses; their almond-shaped eyes shone sea-green on the top of their elongated faces. When they spoke, it was like listening to a fire: all crackles and odd pops with opaque exhalations.

Dr. Aiionwatha Deerfoot from the _Martin James_ hosted the first seminar_. _Kirk had never met her, but McCoy had sung the woman's praises when he found out she was going to be a part of this educational process. She was slightly older than McCoy, and had been at the top of her own graduating class at the Medical Academy. She was a skilled and much sought-after physician who specialized in crush injury syndrome, and cardiothoracic and trauma surgery.(15)

Solid, with a slightly rounded face, high cheekbones and pitch-dark eyes, Dr. Deerfoot could trace her lineage to the ancient Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy(16) on Earth, and she looked the part -- although modernized, of course. She sported a mohawk, her head shaved bare except for the brush-like ruff of black hair running down the center of her scalp from her forehead to the base of her skull. In a more non-traditional display, she also had a tattoo that dipped down from the outer edge of her right eye to the center of her cheek: two black-tipped white feathers decorated down the shaft with red and black dots that looked like bands of tiny beads. There was some kind of iridescence worked into the red "beads," which glistened whenever Dr. Deerfoot moved her head. The effect would have been distracting if she had not held such a personal presence or had been a less engaging speaker.

Most of the information disseminated through this particular seminar was probably old hat to the more seasoned medical personnel, but Kirk had never had an in-depth education on Vulcan physiology, and he was grateful to learn a few things about Spock's people he didn't know. Dr. Deerfoot's initial lecture was conventional, giving everyone an overview of Vulcan general anatomy; the ranges of normalcy in body temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, respiration; Vulcan blood types; diseases specific to Vulcans and such. She presented complex information conversationally, finding a comfortable balance between the elementary and the sophisticated. The medical practitioners were kept interested, while the use of medical jargon and convoluted terminology didn't overwhelm the lay spectators.

When it came time for the presentation on Vulcan sexuality and the rituals of Pon Farr, Kirk was relieved to find that everyone comported themselves in a professional manner. There were no sniggers or whispered jokes; instead, everyone became quieter, more focused, and some moved to the edge of their chairs. It wasn't often lectures on this particular subject were provided, and it seemed as though everyone in attendance wanted to take full advantage of the opportunity. As the lecture progressed, hands went up throughout the listening groups on the different ships, and Deerfoot was diligent, answering every question as fully as she could.

"So Vulcans only have sex once every seven years?" a non-medical staffer on the _Merton_ asked.

"No. That's a common misconception, though. Vulcans can engage in sex whenever they want to, but during the Pon Farr they have to mate."

"And where does the plak-tau fit into the males' Pon Farr?" someone else asked.

"The Pon Farr itself progresses in stages. First, there's a release of the Vulcan-specific hormone yamareen (17), which triggers the Pon Farr effect. The effect lasts for about eight days, and if the male cannot find a mate or otherwise deal with the hormonal imbalance in his body -- through extreme physical exertion or deep meditation, neither of which are very often successful, by the way -- before the eight days is up, the imbalance will kill him. In the first few days, the male becomes irritable and aggressive, but is still able to think clearly and make decisions. Toward the end of the eight-day period, however, the blood fever starts -- the plak-tau -- and when the male is in that state he cannot think clearly and often requires others to make decisions for him. At the height of the plak-tau, the male is sexually charged and violently aggressive. The cognitive part of his brain shuts off, and he runs on instinct and adrenalin. He'll generally mate with whatever female is presented to him, and will attempt to kill any other male who enters the mating space..."

"And the drug given to the males on New Vulcan, put them directly into that _height of the plak-tau_ state -- "

"Yes."

A hand went up among those gathered in the small lecture room on the _Oc'c_. A young female Ionian asked in a smoky voice, "It was our understanding that for Vulcans, the seven-year Pon Farr cycle was associated with the seven-year rhythms of radioactive releases from the Vulcan sun. Now that their homeworld is gone, and they are no longer under the influence of that star, what impact will that have on their naturally occurring Pon Farr cycles?"

"That's something we don't know yet," Deerfoot admitted. "The survivors have been away from their homeworld for a little under two years, so, we don't have any long-term data to go on. As far as we know -- although keep in mind Vulcans are reticent to talk about such things -- no one on New Vulcan has gone through a natural Pon Farr. However, we do have anecdotal evidence suggesting that Vulcans away from their homeworld for extended periods experienced delayed Pon Farr cycles. It may be possible -- and this is just speculation -- that as the colony settles and develops on their new world, Pon Farr may disappear from their physiology entirely."

Another hand went up, this time from a male nurse aboard the _Laurant Despins_. "Going back to the drug that was used on New Vulcan... What do we know about it?"

"Not as much as we'd like to know. Apparently, the newly formed Transitional Council is having some difficulties finding all the background data on the original formula. They have, however, assured us that it will be tracked down, and we'll get samples of the serum as soon as we reach planetside."

"What about the accusations the Vulcans engaged in bad science?" someone from the _Merton_ asked. Other voices from the other ships echoed that concern.

"They're just that: accusations. We haven't had a chance to look at the science they used yet, so we can't even begin to make a determination on whether it was 'bad' or not."

"But," someone from the _Martin James_ chimed in, "all these women were subjected to males under the influence of the plak-tau inducing drug... and now they're suffering. Are you telling me there's no correlation between the drug and their symptoms?"

"I'm saying we don't know what the correlation is yet; or even if there is one."

Some of the spectators were not satisfied with that response, and irritated grumblings filled sections of many of the conference rooms connected by the monitor. Angry noise and conversations that slipped off topic rose like a wave, and the discussions deteriorated into untempered remarks accusing the Vulcans of miscalculations and blatant mismanagement, of endangering their already endangered race with atrociously muddied science, and of subjecting their population to wild experimentation.

"I get the irritation," Kirk said loudly from behind McCoy's chair, and the noise from the other ships lessened as the participants quieted and focused on him. "Believe me, I understand your outrage and frustration. As you know, my First Officer, my friend, Mr. Spock, was subjected to the demands of the edict, and he's now suffering as a result of what he was put through, so... I get it. I'm pissed off, too. There's probably no one among you who wants to reach out and slap the Vulcans upside the head harder than I do over the Ek'tevan Prerogative. However... the great thing about working with Mr. Spock is that... I get to learn from him; and one of the things he's taught me is temperance." General laughter filled the rooms, and Kirk grinned with self-deprecating humor. "Yeah, I know. It's hard to believe. I'm not exactly the temperate type. And even though Spock teaches me temperance every day, I'll be the first to admit I'm not always the best student -- and Spock would probably second that." More laughter.

"But," Kirk's smile slowly faded, "I saw him go through the aftermath of the edict, and I can tell you... it was one of the bravest things I've ever seen. And to see him struggling now, is... well, it's not easy, on him or on any of us who care about him."

On the bridge, Nyota's eyes filled with tears.

"In the face of all of this, I've never heard Spock complain about what happened to him, blame anyone or judge anyone. In one of our more private conversations, he reminded me that not even Vulcans can know the unknown, and sometimes you can do everything you're supposed to do -- prepare for every contingency you can imagine, double-check and triple-check your data -- and still fail.(18) And it's from failure that learning comes.

"I think we all need to keep in mind we're not here to criticize or condemn the previous Transitional Council for doing what they did. They and their people will come to terms with that in their own time, and in their own way. What happened happened, and now we have to learn from it. Browbeating the Vulcans over the edict at this point is counterproductive; our sniping won't change anything. Our mission is to assist New Vulcan in the care of the plak-tau women and see that their children are born safely. That's what we're here to do. That's what we need to focus on."

There were a few seconds of silence before light applause filtered through the rooms. From the center of the monitor, Dr. Deerfoot nodded and looked grateful for Kirk's input. "Thank you, Captain Kirk," she said, and then added to the group, "Remember, too, everyone: Vulcans are touch-telepaths. If you go down there sulking and cantankerous, they're going to pick it up the minute you put your hands on them. I daresay they've got enough stress to cope with right now; we don't need to be adding to it. So, let's try to stay positive and proactive."

As the discussions turned to an overview on Vulcan pregnancies, McCoy reached behind him and gave Kirk a pat on the arm. "Thanks for the reframe, Jim," he said.

The captain shrugged. "You would have said it if I hadn't butted in."

"Actually, I was with the sulky, cantankerous kids for a minute there, so, thanks."

* * *

When a ninety-minute lunch hour was called before the next presentation -- and Kirk smirked a little, knowing how Spock would have reacted to the absurdity of calling a ninety-minute break an "hour" -- he, McCoy and Nurse Chapel headed to the Medical Bay to check on Spock, and found Nyota was already there. Spock was in the same condition she'd left him in earlier: unmoving, unresponsive, caught between sleep and unconsciousness, but stable.

"How did you get here so fast?" Kirk asked her, amazed.

"Time travel," Nyota quipped.

"I thought you were coordinating all of the communications links."

"I was, and then I turned my station over to De'Vrille while I went on break."

"Where are Sarek and Sa'aat?" McCoy asked her.

"Sarek took a break for some meditation when I came in, and I'm not sure, but I think Sa'aat is with the _Haulat_ --"

"Are you hungry, honey?" Christine gave Nyota's shoulders a sisterly squeeze. "I can bring you something from the galley." Dr. McCoy threw his Head Nurse a caustic look that she acknowledged with a glance, but otherwise ignored.

"Something Vulcan, in case Spock wakes up." Nyota said. "What?" she asked, catching the other's questioning looks. "I'm being _'positive and proactive'_."

Christine grinned and left the room. McCoy was right behind her. "Food? You're bringing her food?" he carped.

"Yes. What's wrong with that?"

"I kicked the Vulcans out earlier because they brought food and fire into the suite... I'm trying to run a hospital here, damn it, not a bed and breakfast."

"Oh, quit whining. I'll bring you something, too."

"Well..." McCoy said, folding his arms across his chest. "That's different, then."

Christine smiled and shook her head. "Honestly, Doctor, how did your wife ever put up with you?"

"She didn't. That's why I'm here."

In Spock's room, Nyota looked across the bed at Kirk. "I loved what you said during the conference... I've been so caught up in how I feel about Spock, that I neglected to consider what you're going through. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. Your relationship with him is more, well, complicated than mine." The captain looked over Spock's prone body. "I rely on him to be the stable one, you know. He's like my gravity; he keeps me grounded. When he's like this, I... I sometimes feel I could go hurtling into space at any second."

"I know. I feel the same way. It's kind of scary, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." After a few beats, Kirk asked, "Sa'aat is supposed to conduct some kind of ritual, the Klaatu Fart, or something, right?" He mispronounced it on purpose, hoping to get Uhura to laugh a little, and she did. She knew humor was the way he dealt with the difficult situations, and she appreciated the moment of levity, no matter how brief or manufactured.

"The _Katau Fa'ark_," she corrected him with a wry twist of her lips. "And, yes. Sa'aat is hoping to be able to complete it later today. He wants me to be available when he's ready... "

"Permission granted," Kirk said before she had the chance to ask.

"Thank you, Captain."

* * *

Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy presented the brief after-lunch seminar. Theirs was a refresher course on the transport, operation and general maintenance of mobile biobeds. Their seminar also included how to adjust the readings to Vulcan standards and how to encrypt personal information to maintain patient confidentiality while allowing for the accumulation of empirical statistical data on the plak-tau females. Some of the medical staffers' eyes glazed over during the more technical parts of the presentation, but McCoy kept them involved with hands-on demonstrations -- and the stern warning that slackers would find themselves relegated to sanitation duty when they reached the planet.

The second part of the presentation was more interesting for the participants, since it revolved around the antigravity gizmo McCoy had constructed for S'Risha. Anti-gravs had never been used for such a purpose before, and everyone seemed fascinated and pleased with McCoy's ingenuity. Some engineers from the other ships actually walked up as close to their monitors as they could to get a better view of the device, and asked for schematics. They then started chattering in techno-speak about how to make the unit smaller, how the gravimetric field could be adjusted to personalize it for each wearer, and how it might be used in other medical applications. As the discussions continued, Scotty coined the acronym "MAGGIe" (19) for the device and the name stuck. By the end of the session, engineers on every ship eagerly rushed to work up improved versions of the Maggie to present to McCoy and Scotty the next day.

As he left the conference room hours later, McCoy couldn't wipe the proud grin from his face.

* * *

Sa'aat had been aware when, during the lunch break, Sarek had entered the Shuttle Bay and found the _Haulat_ floating just a fraction above the floor, gently bobbing, its skin smooth, without a blemish. He had sensed when Sarek put his hand on the _Haulat_'s skin and let his mind reach into the ship's interior in search of Sa'aat. Although, Sa'aat had felt the touch just as the _Haulat_ had felt it, he had remained so disconnected from his consciousness that Sarek couldn't find him.

This complete mental severance from the waking world wasn't unusual for an Adept. In the monasteries, practitioners often spent the majority of their lives in this state of self-induced isolation and disengagement; which was why Sa'aat had left the Ip-sut Monastery (20). Although he had learned well the ways of the Adepts, and had honed his mind to such a fine edge it could cut through barriers and obfuscation like a razor, sitting still for days, weeks, months, detaching himself forever from reality, was not in his nature. He couldn't live like a mollusk, bound to one spot while life and energy and sustenance swept past him. Sa'aat was a kinetic creature; he had to move in order to survive, and so he took up the nomadic life of a roving assassin, only briefly checking in at the Hurgh Ghor Guild to gather his assignments before moving on again.

He had actually once considered following Spock into Starfleet, joining the crew of an exploratory vessel in a scientific capacity. That was an impossible choice, however, since another part of Sa'aat's nature defied conformity and refused subjugation. Spock was much the same -- it was the "willful core" Sarek admired -- but Spock also had an inner maturity and flexibility Sa'aat lacked. Spock could take orders, allow others to lead, slip into whatever role was presented to him without complaint or reservation, and comport himself admirably. Sa'aat did not possess this ability. He questioned everything: authority, individuals, rituals, the gods. He took nothing at face value, which is why he spent his life investigating, probing, disproving myths, exposing truths and finding the hidden. And he didn't take orders. He could cooperate when cooperation served his purpose; he could be civil; he could be orderly. He was a Vulcan, after all. However, he refused to allow others to dictate to him.

His aversion to commands was something Semuk had never recognized, but of which T'Pau had always been suspicious. Although she had once said to him, _"You follow orders. You recognize the chain of command. You are selective in your engagements with a perceived enemy. All are the hallmarks of a good soldier…"_ he knew she wasn't speaking the truth; in her mind she never trusted him. Her ability to lie effectively was what made her such a powerful leader and challenging foe. Even though she convinced herself every lie she told was true to some degree, in order to never be openly accused of betraying the Vulcan principle of honesty, Sa'aat recognized her for what she was. Whenever he dealt with her, he was reminded of the ancient Vulcan fable of _"T'sai eh K'karee"_(21), and was careful never to allow her too close, or become too involved in her self-serving plots and deceptions.

Yet, even as he practiced his mental arts, fought to clarify and reveal the hidden, and refused to roost, the one undeniable constant in his life, the only person he would ever allow to control him in any way was Spock. Spock -- who possessed his thoughts. Spock -- who filled his body with longing and fire. Spock -- who held his heart and kept him linked to this quadrant of the galaxy.

"Spock," Sa'aat said aloud. Pulling himself out of his meditation, he lifted himself from the floor, and then reached his arms above his head high enough to touch the ceiling. The stretch helped him to relax his muscles and to make more contact with the _Haulat_. He would need access to the ship's energy stores if he were to survive what was to come.

After cleaning and redressing himself, Sa'aat projected his mind throughout his ship. "_Haulat_, hoknau-tor heh katau-tor ha-kel Spahk i'pon ish-veh."(22) In response, the outer skin of the _Haulat_ sizzled briefly with yellow-green electric and psionic static.

* * *

Nyota rolled a stool to the side of Spock's bed and took his hand with her left hand. When their fingertips touched, she felt the tickle of his mind against her skin like a faint pulse or a flutter of breath.

The room was dark, even the biobed monitor was off, and the only light came from the guttering flame of the small meditation lamp on the bedside table. Sarek stood, silent, engrossed in meditation, but no one else was there except Sa'aat, who sat on a stool similar to hers on the other side of the bed. He was dressed in expressionless gray, his hair loose, spilling down his back and shoulders like ink, the reflected flame from the lamp glittering along the bottom of his dark eyes. He took Spock's free hand into his right hand, and then reached across Spock's body with his left.

Nyota looked at the offered hand, but didn't take it. "Tell me again, what we're going to do."

"We are going in tandem into Spock's mind," Sa'aat explained. "You will be the beacon he will follow through the darkness; I will be the hand holding open the door. You will lead him the door, so that he may pass through it, and together we will bring him out of himself."

Nyota nodded even though she wasn't entirely sure to what she was agreeing.

"When the contact initiates, you may feel disoriented. Do not fight against the flow of thoughts and impressions. Release yourself and go where they carry you. The currents will eventually take you to Spock. When you find him, you must engage him enough that he follows you. He may be resistant, at first, or unable to focus on you. You must be persistent."

"Once I have him, how will I know which way is out?"

"I will guide you."

Nyota swallowed. "Tell me truthfully, Sa'aat, have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Then how do you know it will work?"

"I do not know it will. However, I have faith in my ability and in Spock's tenacity of spirit. You must believe also, for if the two of you drift, I may not have the strength to anchor you both."

Nyota thought for a moment longer. She studied Spock's flame-lit face, squeezed his hand in hers, before looking at Sa'aat again. "Okay. But... No matter what happens, I want you to save him. Do whatever you have to do. Understand?"

"By any means necessary," Sa'aat replied. "Are you ready?"

"No... But let's go anyway." Nyota reached out to Sa'aat and took his hand.

* * *

(1) **"If you rest, you rust.":** This quote is actually one attributed to the American actress, Helen Hayes, (October 10, 1900 – March 17, 1993). She was called "The First Lady of the American Theater".

(2) **Barkaya marak:** a Vulcan soup akin in flavor to "cream of spinach" made of peanut-like legumes native to the Vulcan homeworld.

(3) **Yerak**: a Vulcan word for "bowl"

(4) **Sukmakhau, psthan and s'thaupi**: "sukmakhau" is the Vulcan word for "magnification"; "psthan" is the Vulcan word for "quest" or "search" or "hunt" ; and "s'thaupi" is the Vulcan word for the "beyond state" achieved through meditation. **Author's Note: **Vulcan symbols presented in triads (threes) like this, is not uncommon, and does have its basis in Trek canon. One site, The Star Trek Prop, Costume and Auction Blog, suggested that the three symbols used for Vulcan meditation (and worn by Adepts on their robes) were "rata" (concept), "tafar" (discipline) and "tapan" (process). I'm not accepting this interpretation, however, mostly because I can't find anything that supports the contention that the words rata, tafar and tapan even exist in the Vulcan language; and because the writer of the article on the blog site admits that the interpretation proffered ISN'T canon. My research showed that there is no Vulcan word for concept (the closest is "tangu" which means "ideal"), and that the Vulcan words for discipline and process are "nahr" and "torek". I will, however, accept the fact that three repeating symbols, whatever their verbal interpretation may be, DO appear throughout Trek canon on Vulcan clothing, including the robes Spock wore in _"Star Trek: The Motion Picture"_, and his burial robe in _"Star Trek: The Search for Spock"_. Since my triad of symbols appears on the lamp (and not on clothing), however, I'm sticking with sukmakhau, psthan and s'thaupi. _(And, yes, researching this stuff is almost as fun as writing it into my stories!)_

(5) **Asenoi and tho'san stone:** an "asenoi" is Vulcan fire pot, used as a focal point during meditation, and the tho'san stone is a polished stone the person sits on in front of the fire pot during meditation.

(6) **Ohrom:** this is the Vulcan word for "excellent". **Author's Note:** And for those of you who may be freaking out because Sarek isn't using a spoon _[I love you guys!]_, keep in mind that he's NOT touching the food here with his hands; the bowl is being used as the utensil.

(7) **La'nash-veh Spahk-kam:** Translated from the Vulcan this means, "I am here, Spock." The addition of the suffix "-kam" at the end of a name is an indication of familiarity and affection.

(8) **Katau Fa'ark:** A Vulcan mystical ritual during which an Adept brings a closed off mind out of its recession and into open consciousness again; literally translated from the Vulcan "katau fa'ark" means "bring forward". **Author's Note:** this is NOT Trek canon; I made this up myself. I imagined the Katau Fa'ark as being the opposite of a Fulara; bringing all thoughts and feelings to the forefront of the mind and dealing with them, rather than forcing them down and suppressing them.

(9) **Beaumont Inn:** an historic bed and breakfast in the Bluegrass region of Harrodsburg, Kentucky. It was established in 1919 and is still in operation today. **Author's Note:** I wanted to choose a historic location that McCoy, being a "country doctor from Kentucky", might know and the Beaumont seemed to fit the bill.

(10) **No sleep and too many Vulcans...:** This is a play on the line _"all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy"_ which Stephen King used in his novel _"The Shining" _to demonstrate how crazy his character Jack Torrance was becoming.

(11) **Plohk! Duh'es!: **from the Vulcan this translates as "Delusion! Foolishness!"

(12) **Tah**: the Vulcan word for "unattainable"

(13) **T'ka vishizhau, wi t'ka vishizhau fam**: from the Vulcan this translates as "of the same cast, yet not of the same cast".

(14) **Istau-bosh Nash-tor-ik**: Vulcan for "wishful thinking"

(15) **Deerfoot:** in my back-story for this character I wrote that Deerfoot had earned her Commander's pips overseeing the triage and surgical units dispatched by the Federation after a major crisis on Diaxis Four. Overseen by a fledgling group of Federation terra-formers, the D-4 colony, as it was called, was located in a system of underground bunkers that kept the colonists safe from the hostile surface environment during the planetary reclamation process. When seismic activity on the planet caused the structural collapse of the majority of the bunkers, Deerfoot was one of the first responders. Most of the fifty-five victims suffered from crush injury syndrome, and it was Deerfoot's cool-headedness and expertise that saved the lives of all of but two of them. (The planet, colony, and accident were all, of course, of my own creations, and are NOT part of Trek canon.)

(16) **Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy:** The confederacy was originally founded by the Iroquois (Haudenosaunee) in the 16th century under the leadership of The Great Peacemaker (Deganawide) and Hiawatha, and expanded through the 18th century to comprise six major Native American tribes (the Mohawk, Seneca, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Tuscarora) along with over fifty "sachem" (paramount chiefs). It was a political and diplomatic body that preached and maintained peace between the tribes. **Author's Notes:** Dr. Deerfoot's first name, Aiionwatha, is a derivative of "Hiawatha". Some authors and Trek fans see parallels between Deganawide and Surak and their philosophies of peace.

(17) **Yamareen**: this is the hormone released in the Vulcan males that initiates the Pon Farr, according to the Memory Beta site.

(18) The line _"Not even Vulcans can know the unknown,"_ was actually spoken by Spock in the TOS episode, "Immunity syndrome". **Author's note:** the reference to failure was also a sort of off-handed acknowledgement of the fact that in the 2009 _"Star Trek"_ movie the Vulcan scientists did everything they could to save Romulus, but their data about the super nova proved faulty and Romulus was destroyed anyway.

(19) **MAGGIe** is short for the **M**cCoy **A**nti-**G**ravity **G**estational **I**nt**e**rcessor. ("Maggie" sounded like something Scotty would come up with.)

(20) **Ip-sut:** "ip-sut" is the Vulcan word for "hidden". In my previous story, _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_, Sa'aat revealed that he had retreated to the Ip-sut Monastery after resigning as Spock's Osavensular T'Guv. At the monastery, Sa'aat became an Adept and learned the ways of the K'a'sum'i.

(21) **T'sai eh K'karee** (**The Lady and the Snake):** There are various version of this fable on Earth, but they all go something like this: a woman finds a poisonous viper battered, frozen, and dying on the ground. Being kind hearted, she picks the snake up and puts it inside of her coat to keep it warm, feeds it, and nurtures it back to health. Although the snake, wrapped around her body, seems to reciprocate by protecting her from bandits and rapists (who see the snake and run off), when it is finally feeling healthy and secure again, the viper raises its head, bites her in the breast, and injects her full of its poison. As she's dying, the woman asks for an explanation. She had nurtured the snake, and fed it, and kept it warm with her body. Why did it attack her? The snake replies simply, "You knew what I was when you picked me up." **Author's Note:** There is no Vulcan fable of _"T'sai eh K'karee"_ in Trek canon; I made it up.

(22) _**Haulat**_**, hoknau-tor heh katau-tor ha-kel Spahk i'pon ish-veh**: translated from the Vulcan this means, "_Haulat_, it is time to gather Spock and bring him home." (Or more literally, " _Haulat_, to gather, and to bring home Spock now time it is.")


	15. Chapter 15

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

Hey, everyone, in the next chapter or so **Pa'shu's cubs are going to be born**! There are two of them, a male and a female, and **I need names for them**. Whoever sends me a name, that I then choose for one of Pa'shu's cubs in my story, gets a one-of-a-kind Pa'shu-cub drawing (well, the way I draw on the computer is more like "scribbling", but you'll still get an image of the cub you name!) THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO'S SUBMITTED NAMES ALREADY! THEY ARE VERY INGENIOUS, AND CHOOSING JUST TWO OF THEM IS GOING TO BE DIFFICULT.

Thank you, as always, to my great beta Farstrider, and to my former beta Josie: please take care of yourself! XXOO

And, as with the other chapters, the numbers you see throughout the text, like (8), are for end notes that explain terms or give readers more background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN:**

As Sa'aat performed the Katau Fa'ark, Kirk and McCoy monitored Spock and those in his suite from a station in the Medical Bay. Half the screen showed Spock's vital signs, while the other showed live video of his room from several different angles. The Vulcans had turned off the lights and had snuffed out the meditation lamp -- for which McCoy had expressed gratitude -- but Kirk could make out Nyota, Sa'aat and, more vaguely, Sarek, gathered around the biobed. Gilgreni also attended, but was relegated to standing in the hallway beside the closed door. Kirk had glimpsed him earlier, his eyes closed and his face serene in meditation.

Scotty beeped in, letting the captain know the _Haulat_ had situated itself near the Shuttle Bay's ceiling and now glowed with self-generated yellow-green energy pulses. "On the readouts, the pulses are made of mostly theta waves, but they're modulating at a cycle I've never seen before, and, well, theta waves don't usually glow, Captain."(1)

"Is there any danger to the crew?" Kirk asked.

"I cannae tell, but..." Scotty answered. "The theta wave levels are relatively low, and I dinnea see any indication that the glowing effect has any debilitating attributes."

"Bones?"

"Theta waves are pretty benign, Jim. Of course, if there's a sudden flash like we experienced when Spock went through the shriv t'kae, there's no telling what might occur."

The captain mulled this over for a few seconds and said, "Better safe than sorry." He tapped some touch-screen buttons on the monitor, activating the intraship communications system. "All stations, this is the captain," he said calmly.

Crewmembers stopped mid-step and mid-action throughout the ship to listen to the broadcast. "Doctor McCoy and Mister Scott have informed me we may experience another anomalous psionic discharge over the next several hours, so, as a precaution, I'm putting the ship on Yellow Alert. All hands to alert readiness; non-essential personnel maintain general quarters until further notice. Kirk, out."(2)

"You know, the crew has pretty much figured out the psionic discharges are coming from Spock," McCoy muttered after Kirk closed the channel.

"Yeah, but my alerts go right into the log; and I don't want Spock's name showing up in relationship to the discharges unless it's absolutely necessary."

* * *

When Nyota stepped into Spock's mind, she was immediately slammed to one side by a blast of cyclonic energy, as if she had entered through the side of a tornado. In the distance, the disturbance looked threadbare, as its effect lessened and dispersed along its edges. However, in her location, all Nyota heard was high-pitched shrieking, while whirling layers of fog and static interspersed with distorted, filmy images bombarded her. Occasionally, lightning struck the layers, creating small, sizzling black spots that withered into ugly puckers and smelled like burnt flesh.

Sa'aat appeared, positioned like a cement beam before her, in an area where the cyclonic effect, while less intense, still caused his long hair to stream horizontally from his head. Nyota considered moving toward him, but looking down, discovered nothing onto which to place her feet. As the turbulence continued to beat against her, she shouted, "Oh my God, what is this?"

"The remnants of the shriv t'kae," Sa'aat said, but his lips didn't move. He spoke into her mind. ".-- And the damage T'Pau left after she initiated the kashek fo-dan."

"Spock's nightmare about the maelstrom --!"

"Yes, in part."

"I thought you came in here earlier to alleviate this!"

"I did. It took nearly half a day to quell the effect to this point. It was far worse before. Had you stepped in earlier, your mind would have been reduced to irreparable shreds."

Sa'aat extended his arm out through the roiling mass to hand her something. Nyota reached for it, but it took all her strength to fight the wind, to keep her own outstretched arm steady enough to latch onto the thing. She pulled a looped end of a rope manufactured from a thick material made of a webbed mesh of dark green filaments to her. Her mind flashed to her biology courses at the Academy and the images of brain cells and synapses under a microscope. "What is it?" she yelled in Sa'aat's direction.

"I can hear you," he said quietly, again without moving his lips. "You need not scream. Use your mind."

"I'm not as good at that as you are, _you ice-blooded S.O.B._!" her mind said, and then she added aloud, "Oops! Sorry about the 'S.O.B.' part!"

"Internal censoring comes with practice," Sa'aat advised.

"Oh? What are you censoring right now?"

Sa'aat ignored her question. "Do not take anything you see here in the literal sense. What you observe is an amalgamation of imagery from Spock's pneuma and cerebral processes, your thought processes and perceptions, and mine. There is no oxygen, no up or down, no gravity. In this place, everything is perception, 'seeming' only, not reality in a three-dimensional sense."

"Including this?" Nyota asked, indicating the rope. She could see and feel it; it certainly seemed three-dimensional to her.

"It is a suggestion. Think of it as a mental tether. Hold it as a reminder, so we do not become separated. If you become lost in here, I may not be able to find you."

Nyota slipped the loop over her hand and tightened it against her wrist. Sa'aat pulled the tether, drawing her through the storm. Away from the edge of Spock's consciousness, the winds were less severe, and the noise less bothersome. Nyota looked up, then down -- even though Sa'aat had said no such reference points existed here -- and saw they were suspended in the eye of a storm.

Sa'aat slipped his arm around Nyota's waist, and before she could object, he said, "Brace yourself," and they began to fall.

She screamed all the way down.

* * *

McCoy and Kirk could hear everything Nyota said aloud. When she screamed, Kirk jumped up and rushed to Spock's room. "Wait!" McCoy called after him. "Jim! Don't disturb them!"

The captain skidded to a halt at the door, where Gilgreni blocked his way. He tried to calculate his chances of winning a battle with the Vulcan over the door controls.

"You cannot enter. If you break Sa'aat's concentration, they will all be lost," Gilgreni told him in all seriousness.

"McCoy?" The captain yelled over his shoulder.

"Her vitals are fine, Jim," McCoy called back. "Something just scared her. She's okay!"

"You must not intrude," Gilgreni put his hand over the door's control panel.

Kirk clenched his fists, frowning and then reluctantly returned to McCoy.

* * *

"Oomph!" Nyota grunted when the free-fall abruptly ended. They were suspended, buoyant over a dank landscape. It felt like they were in water, although neither of them was wet, and for a moment Nyota struggled to breathe. Sa'aat sank beneath her, tugging her down after him by the tether at her wrist. He put his hands to her waist again from behind, and set her feet on the damp ground.

The environment was not what she had expected from Spock. He was a desert creature who enjoyed botany and spoke often of green places and sandy places with equal fondness and veneration. She had half-expected his mind to reflect that; but here, everything was cast in cadaverous grey and was humid, drab and overcast. The land and sky blended, making it impossible to tell if there was a horizon; and nothing seemed completely formed. Under her feet, the earth felt soft, like wet clay; a kind of pale grey-green matter she couldn't readily identify.

"What is this place?" Nyota asked.

"Cinerea," Sa'aat uttered, more to himself than to her.(3)

She turned to him and was stunned by his appearance. Sa'aat was now a carved piece of polished, living crystal with a translucent peach-colored core; his sharp angles and flat facets reflected everything around them. His heart beat like a blob of pinkish orange mercury in his side. "This is a part of Spock's unconscious; a primordial component of his brain," his mind told her, and when it spoke an iridescent node of light at Sa'aat's forehead convulsed, and congealed, and flexed inside the crystalline-peach stone. "It resides ever in a primitive and unformed state, allowing for contact without preconception or judgment. It links us all to the k'war'ma'khon."

He pointed upwards, and Nyota looked above them. The sky, if it was the sky, oozed with thousands of large drops of an oily fluid that clung to the surface of the upper atmosphere, but didn't fall. As far as Nyota could tell, inside each drop a Vulcan floated, adults and children, males and females, each made from the same icy-pink crystal as Sa'aat. She thought she recognized S'Risha and Sarek, Gilgreni and even little Tasmeen, the mute Vulcan girl they had rescued with the Fonn Vuhlkansu from New Vulcan.(4) The drop holding Sarek trembled, dislodged from the sky and fell to the ground at Nyota's feet. There, the drop and the liquid image of Sarek inside it, sat on the surface of the ground before being slowly absorbed.

"Sarek now joins us -- on a surface level," Sa'aat explained.

"That's amazing." Nyota looked at him again, and blinked. In several of Sa'aat's facets, she thought she could now see her reflection. The woman moved when she moved, lifted a hand when she lifted a hand, turned when she turned, but shone all over with long beams of colored light: red at her feet, orange at her groin, yellow at her core. From her heart, pale green light radiated; from her throat, light blue; and from the top of her head burst a beacon of pure white energy.(5) Surrounding her, but not inhibiting the light, was a clear bubble. "Is that... me?"

"It is a perception of you," Sa'aat said.

"Your perception, or Spock's?"

"An amalgamation."

"Well, thank you, I think. I look very... radiant, if I do say so myself. You look like a crystal with a translucent light-copper core to me."

"An apt description, perhaps," Sa'aat conceded. "Vulcans are creatures of stellar material, rendered by heat and compression, with a basis in native polycrystalline yar-tukh."(6)

"In this place you're also transparent. Is that because Spock can see through your stony façade?" Long crystalline hackles on the back of Sa'aat's neck bristled; he didn't appreciate her assessment, but he did not answer. "And copper is malleable, " Nyota went on. "But that doesn't seem to describe you. Perhaps it's a reference to your more ductile qualities, your ability to endure force without breaking?"

"Or perhaps it indicates you do not know me as Spock knows me," Sa'aat said, turning to walk away from her. He couldn't get far ahead, however, as they were tethered together; and when Nyota refused to move, he was forced to stop and turned to face her again. "You are dilatory," he said.

"No. More like stubborn."

"The end result is the same; you generate delay."

"An apt description, perhaps," she mimicked him. "Sa'aat, talk to me. Help me to know you better."

"Toward what purpose?"

"So we can help Spock."

"I thought that was what we were doing. I am here for Spock. I brought you here for Spock. We labor in tandem to find him and bring him out of himself. What else needs to be said?"

"I don't know," Nyota admitted. "Maybe nothing. It's just -- You're so closed-off all the time. I never know what you're thinking, what you're up to, what you might be hiding from me. I need more from you; more assurances, more information, more trust."

"Do my actions not speak clearly enough for you, Nyota Uhura? Must I placate you with words and promises?"

"I guess not," Nyota said; and when Sa'aat started walking again, she followed him.

For a long while, she tried to imagine how Spock viewed this man -- what Spock saw in him that allowed him to trust him so much -- until she realized that in this place, she was seeing Sa'aat as Spock saw him. What she could see in this place was all amalgamation, as Sa'aat had told her, made up of mental images generated by herself, Sa'aat and Spock... so, the crystal image of Sa'aat was how Spock saw him, at least to some degree.

Nyota stopped again, and when the tether ran out Sa'aat turned to face her. For the first time, she looked at him from Spock's point of view. Against the backdrop of a Vulcan society dedicated to the tenets of stoicism, logic and science, Sa'aat was a bright anomaly; a man of many facets, who stood out among the other Vulcans, just as he stood out in this drab mindscape. To Spock, Sa'aat was pure and crystal-clear, with a Vulcan core and a malleable heart, able to speak without speaking, willing to go where others would not; oddly brave, adventurous and cocksure. Sa'aat was consolidated and substantial; something that looked like ice but was born of fire; a gleaming gem, unique, eclectic, unparalleled, precious...

As realization filled her mind with an understanding and appreciation for Sa'aat she had never experienced before, silent tears spilled down Nyota's illuminated cheeks.

Sa'aat cocked his head. "What is it?" he asked without speaking.

"I'm sorry," Nyota said when she was more composed. "I didn't understand."

They continued forward.

After a short distance, Sa'aat said, "Apologies are unnecessary. I did not see you for what you were to him either, until he showed me, in this place." He glanced at his feet. "I admit the truth was difficult for me." Sa'aat then looked across his shoulder and met her eyes. "He loves you very much, in a way he will never love me. You are the source of his inner harmony; the thing that makes him feel whole and connected. It is sometimes difficult, when faced with a truth, to accept it gracefully when you would much rather reject it."

"Yes, it was like that for me, too... You know, I may have his heart, Sa'aat, but you have his mind and a special place in his history and memory. You're all the powerful things about Vulcans he aspires to and admires, and he loves you for that. You were his friend when he had no friends; and he'll never forget that, no matter what the mind storms do to him."

"It is easy to be the magnanimous one, when you are the victor."

"No, it isn't," Nyota confessed. "The ugly, Human part of me sometimes wants to rub your face in my relationship with Spock, but I know he would never approve of that behavior, so I seek to be better than my baser self."

"Spock does have that effect on people."

"Yeah. And I'm not the only victor here. Spock loves us both; just in different ways."

"I can capitulate to the facts of that statement."

"Imagine that, you just almost agreed with me on something."

"We make progress – despite ourselves."

"Yeah, look at us," Nyota smiled.

* * *

In his quarters, Dr. Surrey had hunkered down on the floor next to Pa'shu when the Yellow Alert sounded throughout the ship. Earlier that morning, the sehlat had seemed agitated; panting and engaging in what looked like "nesting activity" to him: pulling pillows and blankets toward her body, then clawing at them to spread them out around her. She had also spent a lot of time grooming herself throughout the day, and now her belly was engorged.

He'd looked up all the available information on sehlats in the library computer, and believed her behaviors heralded the birth of her cubs. Preparing for that possibility, Surrey had boosted the heat in his rooms, dimmed the lights, and had water, towels, and a small medical kit on hand in case he needed them. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with the items, but having them ready made him feel more prepared.

"I guess I'm in Yellow Alert mode myself, eh, Pa'shu?" he said with a slight smile.

Pa'shu, remembering to use her inside voice, responded with a slow, low roar.

* * *

In a dark space on its black island, the Shadow creature stood tall, thin and commanding. Layers of smoky, gauzy blackness lifted and curled slowly around it, reaching in every direction, as far as the mind's eye could see or imagine. To Nyota, it looked like a black hole with a man at its center. The creature even exuded a kind of gravimetric force that bent the atmosphere in around it.

"In Human psychology it is sometimes called the Shadow," Sa'aat explained. "In Vulcan psychology, the creature is The Duv. _Potausu t'ek'vel mu'gelik heh bai'elkhrul-fam_."(7)

"It's kind of frightening --"

"It can be. Such creatures are usually very powerful; they can contain the energy of generations of thought, and experiences, emotions and remembrances..."

"Generations worth? Like, past-life stuff?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

Piles of ornate boxes and bulbous bottles made from pale, frosty-green sea-glass (8), all intricately carved with Vulcan symbols, some so ancient Nyota couldn't translate them, surrounded the being's bare feet. The bulb-end of some of the bottles was crushed, and many boxes lay lidless and empty. Nyota picked up one of the broken bottles and charcoal dust and sparkling black sand poured from it. "Some of its possessions have been destroyed."

"Obliterated in the shriv t'kae," Sa'aat said.

"These are Spock's lost memories? The damaged parts of his brain?"

Sa'aat nodded. "Among other things."

"How can we tell what's missing?"

"We cannot. Only The Duv knows what it stores, and what is released or taken from it."

Nyota replaced the bottle at the being's feet, and then looked up into its faceless face. "Can you tell me what's been shattered?"

"Awek," (9) the creature answered, its voice permeating everything. Nyota sensed the concussive sound against her skin and through the center of her bones. "Wow, I felt that more than heard it," she said to Sa'aat.

"The voice of The Duv is always thus. You feel it in your body."

"A 'gut reaction' --"

"Something like that, yes."

"I didn't think Vulcans had 'gut reactions'. Isn't that more an emotional, Human thing?"

"Quite the contrary. The Vulcan 'gut' can be quite accurate. However, it is rarely employed, as most Vulcans think things through and consider all options and contingencies before coming to a conclusion or making a decision. It is only when an answer is evasive, or when a decision is patently erroneous that The Duv speaks."

"When The Duv does speak, do all Vulcans listen to it?"

"Do all Humans?" Sa'aat countered. "Of course not. I have no doubt T'Pau's Duv spoke to her repeatedly, and she ignored every vowel and syllable from it."

At the mention of T'Pau's name, the environment trembled, and ground near The Duv's feet opened like a mouth and vomited up a large sea-glass box the size of a casket. It sat at an odd angle, propped up against some of the smaller boxes and bottles, its lid ajar. Something inside it seemed to move. Sa'aat looked at Nyota, and then the box, before stepping toward it.

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea," Nyota cautioned.

"Whatever it is, if it is here, it is under the control of The Duv and is therefore rendered powerless."

"Yeah, well, my Duv is telling me that thing looks like a coffin, and that we shouldn't go poking around inside of it."

"Perhaps, your Duv is less accurate than mine." Sa'aat was leaning in to catch a glimpse of what was in the box when the lid burst off and slammed into the Shadow being's side. The Duv was unmoving, but inside the box, an angry, screaming whirlwind thrashed into the box's sides, scraping long thin gashes into its glassy surface. The sound, like fingernails on a chalkboard, was excruciating to Sa'aat's sensitive ears, and he put his hands up to protect them. Not knowing what else to do, Nyota yanked hard on the tether, pulling Sa'aat backward so unexpectedly he fell to the ground, blinking in astonishment.

The whirlwind dissipated, rising into a slender funnel that lost its momentum against The Duv's gravity, and collapsed into a rain of softly swirling ash and black sand. The horrible sound vanished with it. When it was quiet again, Nyota helped Sa'aat up, saying, "You were saying something about my gut?"

"My assessment may have been premature."

"No kidding."

Sa'aat regained his bearings, and cautiously stepped toward The Duv and the now open box beside it. Nyota walked behind him, clutching the tether. The closer they got to The Duv, the more they felt the creature's gravitational field. It wasn't strong enough to pull them into it, but in order to avoid being dragged off their feet, they had to buttress themselves with their legs and bend their bodies at a slight angle away from it.

When they were close enough, they craned their necks to see if anything remained in the box. At first, they saw nothing but sand and ashes, and the wind-etched scribblings along the box's inner walls. Sa'aat took another tentative step closer, and, bracing himself against the side of the box, reached inside. He stepped back and showed Nyota a figurine with puzzlement on his face. "Do you recognize this artifact?" he asked.

_Grimehilde. _

"I think I remember seeing it in Dr. Surrey's office," Nyota touched the figurine lightly with a fingertip. "I think she's supposed to be an evil queen or something."

"And Spock's mind has relegated her to The Duv..."

"What does that mean?"

"It means she symbolizes something Spock is repressing or denying. He's given her to his Shadow to keep for him."

"If she's upsetting, why didn't his mind just... destroy her? Why send her here?"

"The mind cannot eliminate memories without physically annihilating the parts of the brain that hold them. So, when memories are linked to trauma or discomfort, and the bearer does not want the brain to be injured by their destruction, the mind represses them. That is part of the function of The Duv, it is the Keeper of All Things --"

"-- Dark and Unattained."

"Yes." Sa'aat set the figurine back into the box.

"This might be a good sign, right? It means Spock's mind is working to heal itself, to set aside the trauma, without causing any more damage to the brain itself."

"It does seem promising, yes."

"So, where is he? How do we reach him?"

The Duv turned its elongated head toward her. "Kanok-wilat heh rai shi, nam-tor Spahk,"(10) it said with its inside-rattling, all-permeating voice.

"Well, that was wonderfully cryptic," Nyota said, putting a hand against her stomach to quell the resonance of The Duv's voice there. She looked to Sa'aat. "How are we supposed to find him, if he's everywhere and nowhere?"

"How have we managed to come this far?"

"I don't know; I'm just following you."

"Try to think of the mind as an aquifer," Sa'aat suggested, "Pools of experience and emotion and thought connected by the matrix and matter of the brain. In the spaces between the pools, where the linkages are, there are currents and eddies. Step into one pool, and the current will eventually take you to the next."

"So the primordial part of the brain where we entered, and this environment where The Duv is, are pools. We've been following the current between them."

"Precisely."

"Why don't we just skip all the pools and go right to where Spock is?"

"Because he is everywhere --"

"-- And nowhere. Yeah. Thanks for the clarification."

"Are you always so impatient and unaccepting?" Sa'aat asked, and rather than his voice carrying the confrontational and acerbic tone he might have used with her before they entered Spock's mind, it now held a tone of quiet inquiry -- and a little humor, Nyota suspected. He was teasing her; making an effort to be civil and friendly, which seemed both astonishing and somehow comforting. She smiled a bit as she answered him with equal amity, "I don't like riddles. I like it when things are made clear; when things are explained to me."

"And you cannot accept there are some things in the Universe which cannot be explained, but must simply be experienced?"

"I can accept that. Sure," she said. "I just don't like it."

* * *

After a short break to ensure the nightshift bridge crew had settled in, and to check for any new communiqués from Starfleet and the other ships, Captain Kirk returned to McCoy in the Medical Bay.

"All quiet on the Western front?" McCoy asked. (11)

Kirk handed McCoy a cup of hot coffee, black, no sugar, and settled onto the stool beside him, in front of the monitor. McCoy had been there on duty for over four hours now, and Kirk was sure he needed some kind of fortification. The doctor would have probably preferred bourbon, but coffee was going to have to suffice for now. In answer to McCoy's question, the captain said, "Tomorrow is shaping up to be a very busy day. The _Martin James_, _Laurant Despins_, and _Merton_ will rendezvous with the _Enterprise_ around oh-nine-hundred. The _Oc'c_ is about three hours behind them, and the _Greezia_, which had to stop at Jagusch-McGillis to pick up some personnel vacationing there, is bringing up the rear. If they had told us they had people down there, we could have picked them up ourselves, but... oh well. The Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation will transport to the _Enterprise_ from the _Laurant Despins_ once we're within range. There will be nine or ten of them, I think. I've already got Yeoman Rand setting up quarters for them."

"Dr. M'Benga's medical seminars are slated for tomorrow, too."

"Yeah, so, like I said: tomorrow is going to be very busy." Kirk sipped his own coffee and gestured to the monitor. "Any change?"

McCoy shook his head. " This has got to be the most boring televideo show ever."

"Well, let's be thankful for small favors."

* * *

After traveling through a labyrinth of different environments filled with myriad beings, watchful eyes, living echoes, electrical displays, ancient libraries, shrines, ruins, and impossibly intricate machinery, Nyota and Sa'aat came upon a landscape where cliff-faces curled up from the bedrock like spirals of thick, pale-green rind. The cliffs, decorated with long stalactites filled with tiny lights, bordered a crowned path, higher in the center than on the sides, that seemed to lead ever upward. Trudging up the incline, Nyota noticed that the higher they went, the more illuminated, explicit, and ornate the landscape became.

Eventually, the cliffs gave way to a circular setting of tall monoliths, a sort of Vulcan Stonehenge constructed from material that looked like aventurine(12), carved with thousands of symbols from Ancient Vulcan to Golic Vulcan, and even incorporating some modern Media Script,(13) mostly in reference to ships or smaller star-vessels. The _Enterprise_ was mentioned, written as: **σ(Yσ****2****]****2****ƒ?σ**.

The tops of the stones, distorted by perspective, and impossibly narrow, converged toward some unseen distant point in a sky made of huge convex lenses filled with luminous jewels. Some of the jewels winked and sparkled while others remained permanently lit. Nyota put her fingertips on the closest monolith, feeling the engravings, reading and translating what she could. After a few seconds, she said, "My God... It's Spock's history, isn't it?"

"Yes," Sa'aat agreed. "Or more precisely, it is the history of the planet Vulcan from the perspective of one lineage; going back umpteen generations to before the time of Surak."

"Wow. If only there was some way to get all of this recorded. Think of how much we could learn about your homeworld; how much history the Vulcan people could regain!"

"It is recorded," Sa'aat said frankly. "It is all here, accessible to anyone who has the skill to enter and to read it."

"But are there many Vulcans left who can do that?"

"No. Only a handful of Adepts scattered throughout the galaxy in the monasteries."

"Adepts like you."

"Yes, like me."

"Maybe that should be your new calling. Maybe you could coordinate with the other Adepts, go into the minds of the surviving Vulcans, and retrieve the history your people lost when your homeworld was destroyed."

"A lofty concept." Sa'aat seemed bemused by the idea. "Given my own history and preferences, however, I doubt many Adepts would agree to work with me in any fashion."

"Well, I didn't think very much of you when we first met, but, here I am, working with you. So, it's not completely hopeless. Perceptions can change."

"Perhaps," Sa'aat conceded. He stepped away from the stone to get a better view of their surroundings. In the center of the monolithic circle, there was a broad courtyard set on a shallow incline. The courtyard's floor was made of interlocking, grayish-green starburst-shaped stones, giving it a cobbled look. At the far end, another smaller structure of aventurine stood, but, although the path and the view were unobstructed, it was too distant to see clearly. Sa'aat started toward it, and Nyota fell in step behind him, still translating some of the history inscribed on the stones as they went along.

"This says Spock's forefather was the first to translate the teachings of Surak into English," she said. "That was Skon, right?"

"Yes. S'chn T'gai Skon, father of Sarek and Silak, son of Solkar."

"Solkar? That name is familiar, too. Wait, wasn't he one of the _First Contact_ Vulcans who met with Zefram Cochrane in 2063?"(14)

"Yes."

"I didn't realize that Spock's family's history was so rich."

"His people stem from one of the oldest clans on Vulcan. From before the time of The Father of All We Became, Spock's people were philosophers and mystics, seers and kings; his heritage is a noble one. It is no wonder so many females were eager to partake in his plak-tau. Spock's Vulcan blood is sovereign. In another time, his children would have been princes."

"That's why the Vulcans were so upset when Sarek took a Human mate... It wasn't just bigotry against Humans, but because they were also worried about preserving an historical bloodline."

"Yes. Before the birth of Sybok and Spock, Sarek was the only surviving male of his bloodline."

"What happened to Silak?"

"As far as we can tell, Silak had no offspring, and nothing was spoken or written about him while Skon lived. Silak was something of a nonconformist, and shunned by his father."

"So that's where Spock get's his more rebellious tendencies, huh? Can't blame that entirely on his Human mother, now, can you?"

"Perhaps not. Although Amanda was quite indulgent with him."

"You got to see them a lot when Spock was younger, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I envy you that. I only met Amanda a couple of times when I was at the Academy. She and Sarek would occasionally visit Spock or attend Federation dinners, and he was always so formal during those times. I would have loved to have seen him when they were at home, in more comfortable surroundings. You'll have to tell me about that sometime."

Sa'aat turned toward Nyota and tilted his head forward in a Vulcan gesture of implied acquiescence. He returned his gaze ahead and stopped walking.

He had halted so abruptly that Nyota was a step or two in front of him before she realized he wasn't moving anymore. She stepped back to his side and followed the line of his eye. She could now see up the remainder of the incline; and at the end of the courtyard was a large freeform fountain or artesian well with clear water surging from its center; a constant gush that roared, hissed and sparkled. Even at their distance, she could hear the white noise generated by the water.

And seated on the edge of the well was Spock.

* * *

(1) **Theta waves:** in Humans, theta waves are energy wave generated by the brain during dreaming and meditation. They generally cycle at 4 to 7 waves per second. Theta waves are also thought to be connected to creativity, out of body experiences, and ESP experiences. According to "Brain Activity During Meditation" at : _"...A person who is driving on a freeway, and discovers that they can't recall the last five miles, is often in a theta state - induced by the process of freeway driving... It is a state where tasks become so automatic that you can mentally disengage from them. The ideation that can take place during the theta state is often free flow and occurs without censorship or guilt. It is typically a very positive mental state." _(2) **Yellow Alert:** According to the Memory-Alpha site, _"A __**yellow alert**__ or __**condition yellow**__ is the second highest alert signal status on Starfleet vessels, one stage below red alert. It designates a ship-wide state of increased preparedness for possible crisis situations. In this status, a ship's defense fields are energized, and/or the deflector shields are brought to full power, however the weapons systems remain off-line." _**Author's note:** I wanted something a little stronger than a "general quarters" order here, so I went with the Yellow Alert.

(3) **Cinerea**: The gray matter of the brain and other parts of nervous system.

(4) **Tasmeen:** in my previous story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative",_ Tasmeen was an 8-year-old orphan who had been adopted by the Fonn Vuhlkansu. She assisted Sa'aat in the rescue of Spock from New Vulcan by creating a diversion that allowed Spock and the others to be beamed off the planet surface. She had lost her family, classmates, and pet sehlat when Vulcan was destroyed, and was stricken mute by the trauma. Tasmeen hasn't spoken for almost 2 years.

(5) **Colors:** Anyone who's done work with Reiki, yoga, or other forms of healing and focusing meditation will recognize these as the colors of the different **chakras** (energy centers) in the body; although sometimes the chakra at the top of the head is depicted as violet rather than white.

(6) **Copper:** This is based, in part, on Trek canon. In its natural form, Vulcan copper, like Earth copper, has a pinkish-orange hue, and at extreme heat, before the melting point, it radiates a peach-colored luster. The green tint in the Vulcans' copper-based blood is caused by oxidation. The word **"yar-tukh"** is Vulcan for "copper ore".

(7)** The Duv. Potausu t'ek'vel mu'gelik heh bai'elkhrul-fam.**: Translated from the Vulcan the word "duv" means "shadow", and " Potausu t'ek'vel mu'gelik heh bai'elkhrul-fam," means "Keeper of all things dark and unattained."

(8) **Sea-glass:** glass found along beaches that has been tumbled and made smooth by the waves, giving the glass a frosted appearance. According to Wikipedia: "... The most common colors of sea glass are kelly green, brown, and clear. These colors come from bottles used by companies that sell beer, juices, and soft drinks. The clear or white glass comes from clear plates and glasses, windshields, windows, and assorted other sources... Authentic sea and beach glass is becoming harder and harder to find for a variety of reasons: there are more people searching for it; glass items have been replaced by plastics; and littering is discouraged." **Author's note:** I chose **sea**-glass because, according to Jungian psychology, the subconscious or unconscious mind is often represented by water (oceans, lakes, seas, rivers, middens, etc), and I wanted to depict the things kept by the Duv as things that were religated to "containers" in the mind that had been rolled around in the subconscious or unconscious for so long that they took on a sea-glass-like look.

(9) **Awek:** according to the VLD, this is the Vulcan word for "private", or "secluded from the sight, presence, or intrusion of others; of or confined to the individual; personal"

(10) **Kanok-wilat heh rai shi, nam-tor Spahk**: from the Vulcan this translate as "Spock is everywhere and nowhere." (Or more literally, "Every place and no place, is Spock.")

(11) **All Quiet on the Western Front:** a reference to the novel by Erich Maria Remarque, a German veteran of World War I. Used as a colloquialism, the phrase "all quiet on the Western front" refers to a lack of action; nothing major happening.

(12) **Aventurine:** SiO2, it's a kind of quartz that can range in color from its natural pale silver-green to a chemically/organically altered peach. According to various sources like "_Stones Alive_" by Twintreess, "_The Illustrated Dictionary of Healing Crystals_" by Eason, and the gemstone glossary at , _"Legends say that it is an all-purpose healer, used to reduce stress, develop confidence, imagination and improve prosperity...Many believe that aventurine has the capacity to calm a troubled spirit and bring about inner peace..."_ I thought this would be the perfect kind of stone, then, for the druids' circle in Spock's mind.(13) **Vulcan Languages:** from the Introduction to Vulcan Linguistics at Star Trek Geekipedia: _"...__We've taken all Vulcan words we could find in writing or in speech and recreated a complete grammar and dictionary of what Gene Roddenberry called ld Vulcan in his novelization of ST:TMP, but which we gave the general name __**Golic Vulcan**__, because Old Vulcan is too easy to confuse with the __**Ancient Vulcan**__ root language. Golic Vulcan is actually comprised of two very close languages -- Traditional Golic Vulcan (the formal language of Surak and continuing planet-wide language of ceremony) and Modern Golic Vulcan (a less formal and contemporary version of the same language which is used as a regional and clan dialect)." _**Media Script** is a form of written Vulcan that uses letters and symbols from the Federation Standard keyboard. It was devised in order to facilitate ship-to-ship communication and identification between Vulcan and Federation ships (the Vulcans adopted the Federation symbols so the Federation didn't have to refit its equipment with additional Vulcan symbols to accommodate the Vulcan language). Media Script is only used for this purpose, and is has not been adopted by the Vulcans in their personal correspondence or Vulcan-specific texts.(14) **Spock's family history:** This information is based on the data on Skon, Sarek, Silak, Sybok, and Solkar as presented on the Memory-Alpha and Memory-Beta sites on-line. According to the Memory-Beta site, _"...__In the mid 21st century, Solkar was the Captain of the survey ship __T'Plana-Hath__. On April 5th, 2063 the __T'Plana-Hath__ was passing through the Sol system when it discovered a human warp signature. Following procedure, Solkar had the __T'Plana-Hath__ proceed to Earth to investigate the warp signature, and landed at the settlement in Montana where the Phoenix was launched from. Solkar was the first to exit the __T'Plana-Hath__, and met the creator of the warp-ship, Zefram Cochrane. This marked the official first contact between humans and Vulcans. (__TNG__ movie: __Star Trek: First Contact__, Star Trek CCG)..." _**Author's note:** The other history alluded to (about Spock's lineage before the time of Surak) isn't in Trek canon.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

Thank you, as always, to my great beta Farstrider, and to my former beta Josie who is still giving me advice on the side! Thank you, too, to everyone who sent in name suggestions for Pa'shu's cubs! The names have been chosen and will appear in the next chapter (along with recognition of the persons who submitted the names).

And, as with the other chapters, the numbers you see throughout the text, like (8), are for end notes that explain terms or give readers more background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN:**

"Spock!" Nyota said aloud. At their station in the Medical Bay, Kirk and McCoy perked up.

"They've reached him?" Kirk asked.

"Well, it's about bloody time!" McCoy blinked, bleary-eyed.

* * *

Spock, thin and naked, somehow looked younger, a waif come in from the storm. His faded, translucent body glistened with oily water, and was splattered with ash and black sand, as though he'd been too close to an explosion. His chin drooped to his chest; his right hand, limp on the lip of the well, seemed to be cradling something Nyota couldn't see. His left arm was extended horizontally from his body, fingers outstretched, as though trying to touch something invisible. His muscles trembled as if they were exhausted but dared not relax. As Nyota and Sa'aat approached, his arm swung in their direction, like the needle of a compass.

Nyota's mind flashed to the tiny silver compass Spock had purchased at the bazaar on Jagusch-McGillis. Ever since he'd given it to her, she kept it tucked inside her bra between her breasts, near her heart. She felt for it, but it didn't seem to exist in this place. _My compass!_

"Seshan-kharat-thonek," Spock muttered without speaking and Nyota blinked and said, "Spock?"

His voice, even though whispery and weak, filled her mind and made her heart skip, as he said, "Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh." (1)

"Spock." Nyota attempted to run to him, but Sa'aat, still holding the tether, had stopped moving. When she could go no further, Nyota turned to him. "What now? Why can't I go to him?"

"He is not ready to receive us into his consciousness."

"But he's reaching for us -"

"No. He is projecting, continuing to shield you even though the storm has abated. He is not yet aware you are here." Sa'aat Sa'aat indicated the clear bubble around her and stepped in closer. "Give him a moment."

"Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh. Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh. Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh," Spock repeated like a whispered mantra, as the others continued their slow progress toward him across the star-shaped cobblestones. "Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh. Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh."

His arm still outstretched, he lifted his head and turned vaguely toward them, but he still wasn't looking at them, not able yet to focus on them. His head lolled slightly on his neck, as though it took all the strength he had just to keep it upright. Nyota saw that the right side of his face, from his temple through his hair and to the back of his head, bore five long wounds, as though a great beast with heavy claws had ripped his skin and bone open to his brain. Green blood, cauterized, burnt black in some places, had dried around the wounds, over his ear, and down his neck and shoulder. His right eye was completely black.

"Oh my God, he's hurt -!" Nyota gasped.

"Yes. The shariv t'kae is a damaging phenomenon. But, remember, what you see here is not literal. The wounding is metaphorical, a representation of what he has undergone. And, as you see, his wounds no longer ooze, and are not festering. He is healing himself. There may be scars left behind, but he has survived, thus far."

"Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh," Spock continued to utter.

"_Take care not to lose it._" Nyota translated aloud. "Take care not to lose - what? His mind? His memories? Why does he keep repeating that?"

"Repetition facilitates focus and harnesses the mind to a single thought or purpose."

"Like a meditation."

"Yes."

"Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh."

"Can't you help him, Sa'aat?"

"Once he recognizes me, yes, but I dare not force awareness. Spock has been battling for his sanity with all his strength - while still protecting you. He is fragile, used up; that is why he appears semi-opaque to us. Too much exterior force now may topple him."

"What can we do then? We have to do something."

"We will remain here, and wait for him to fully form in this place."

* * *

In Dr. Surrey's rooms, Pa'shu had backed herself into a corner, surrounding herself with blankets and pillows while Surrey kept his distance, sitting on the floor nearby, ready to help if she needed him. He was amazed by the contortions an animal as large as she could put herself into; at one point, her back paws were splayed in front of her, and at another point, all her feet were up against the wall as she tried to find a comfortable position in which to give birth. She finally settled on a squat that let her rest the heavier front half of her body on the floor. With each contraction, Pa'shu grunted, panted through her nose and pushed, lifting her stubby, tufted tail.

The cub first appeared as nothing more than a bulge between her anus and vagina. Then the birth sac, a taut, straw-colored balloon of translucent flesh filled with anionic fluid, extruded. Pa'shu licked and chewed it until it burst and spilled its watery contents onto the floor. Another push and a deep grunt, and a sopping, goo-covered cub no bigger than a guinea pig slipped out. It was smoky gray and white - an odd contrast to its mother's dun-colored coat. Its eyes were pressed shut, and it didn't move.

Dr. Surrey leaned in, worried the cub was stillborn; but Pa'shu, unconcerned, licked it firmly with her raspy tongue, warming it, cleaning it, and stimulating it to breathe. She rolled it over with her muzzle and snuffled it, filling her nose with its newborn scent; identifying it as hers. It eventually squeaked, and then gave a cry that sounded so much like a Human newborn it startled Surrey. _Woo-aaah! Woo-aaah!_

Surrey grinned. "Oh, how cute is that?"

_Woo-aaaaaah!_

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

* * *

As Spock gradually became more aware of his surroundings, his form lost some of its translucency and the adolescent rendering became more adult; his muscles thickened, his body lengthened, his voice became stronger. Lessening his detachment, he started taking in deeper breaths, frowning as he forced his good eye to focus. When he stopped thinking and mind-speaking the repetitive mantra, _pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh_, he mouthed the words; but after a while, even that stopped.

As comprehension seeped in, he looked at the hand pointing toward Nyota. He still didn't see her, but he suddenly seemed to realize the outstretched hand belonged to him. Spock slowly drew it to his face, examined it with his good eye, and then curled and flexed his fingers before letting it drop to his naked lap. As soon as the hand fell, the protective bubble around Nyota collapsed. She braced herself, expecting to be inundated with Spock's feelings and thoughts, as she usually was when the two of them touched in a meld. Instead, her mind was infused with a sort of soft static and the distant sounds of Spock speaking to himself in Vulcan. She looked to Sa'aat. "Why is there so... little... of him in my mind?"

"He is not yet fully conscious; not yet fully self-aware."

Spock then noticed the cobblestones, and traced the outline of one with his bare foot. He lifted his hand from his lap and put it into the water, then lifted it to watch the water run between his fingers, down his arm and off the end of his thin elbow. "Kanu pukeshta-tor bosh-manu panu," he mumbled, "worla oren-tor uf yauluhk nam-tor masu." (2)

As his perception improved, the water in the well behind Spock deepened and became more agitated. At the same time, Nyota's mind filled more fully with his inner sounds and sensations. When the well was near to overflowing, pencil-thin aqueducts, made of aventurine and decorated with symbols, started growing around it, almost like living things, carrying the water through the courtyard in all directions, connecting with distant unseen walls and the bejeweled ceiling. When one of the channels grew toward them, Sa'aat and Nyota had to step out of the way to make room for it. Nyota lifted a hand to touch the water, but Sa'aat caught her arm.

"Each conduit is a line of thought. If you put your hand into it, you will disturb his concentration."

Several illuminated lenses in the sky began to glow brightly, catching Spock's attention. He looked up, and almost tumbled backwards into the water, catching himself with both hands. In that motion, a tiny phial filled with pale yellow light slipped from his right hand, rolled across the lip of the well, and teetered on the edge. Spock made a small, pained noise, and snatched it up before it could fall onto the stones. "Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh," he gasped, and clutched the phial against his throat.

He coughed, and then groaned in pain. His whole body seemed to ache more as his sensory perceptions began to return to him, and Nyota felt it. She squinted as his pain hit her in the center of her head.

Spock doubled over and panted for a few seconds before attempting to refocus. When his pain subsided, Spock began to count the stones in the courtyard - still holding the phial close to his skin - starting with those closest to him. Even this simple mental exercise was difficult, and he had to restart several times. He was using his native tongue, and Nyota's brain quickly translated everything into Federation Standard, but even then, she wasn't sure she understood most of what he was talking about. "If the radius of each stone is eight-point-two-four inches, then... the diameter is sixteen-point-four-eight, and the circumference is... is... fifty-one-point-seven-three-three." Spock frowned. "Creating an area of two-hundred-thirteen-point... three-one..."(3)

Number-strings.

Arithmetical calculations.

As his recitation continued, more ducts were added to the water system in the courtyard until the place was a massive tangled web of stone and moving water.

"The absolute magnitude of an object can be calculated given its apparent magnitude, and luminosity distance, DL, where DL is the star's luminosity distance in parsecs, wherein one parsec is approximately three-point-two-six-one-six light years.(4)

"Warp speed is equivalent to the speed of light in a vacuum, times the warp factor to the power of three.(5)

"The lifetime of a black hole is proportional to its mass cubed..."(6)

For several minutes, Spock challenged himself, posing and solving a variety of logic queries, puzzling over increasingly complex formulae, using the rational, analytical, objective side of his brain. The left side, the Vulcan side, as Nyota viewed it. It was the stronger part of him, she supposed, but she prayed the Human side of him, the emotive, creative, subjective side hadn't been obliterated by the shariv t'kae. All the physical damage she saw - the head wounds, the bloodied eye - was on his right, and that worried her.

The scientific monologue seemed to calm Spock, and the longer he talked, the more focused he became, the more aware, the more lucid. And the more solid his figure became. He clutched the phial and rolled it between his fingers, as though the tactile sensation aided his concentration, until, finally he stopped speaking, and looked up.

He narrowed his eyes and blinked at Nyota, as though his vision was blurred and he wasn't sure what he saw. There was no recognition in his eyes, no hint of passion or other emotion in his thoughts, and Nyota felt heartsick. She made her way to him through the entangled aqueducts, ducking under some, stepping over others, Sa'aat a step or two behind. When she was close enough that the beams radiating from her colorful aura were within reach, Spock stood carefully, letting the pale green light from her heart-space diffuse against his skin. He put his palm against the spot where the light struck him, as though trying to hold the brilliance inside his body, and then looked into her face. It was several seconds before he uttered without speaking, "K'diwa?"

At the utterance, his recollections of her, and his affection for her, filled her mind like a constellation expanding in the dark universe: all light and stellar matter collected around a bright core. Tears rolled down Nyota's cheeks, "Yes, Spock, yes!" She opened her arms to him, and he allowed her to enfold him, and her light to fill and warm him. He sighed, breathing her in, and pressed his face to her skin to soak up her loving energy; the colors of their auras – hers bright, his slightly faded – synchronized. His heartbeat slowed momentarily to match hers before speeding up to its normal rhythm again. He ran his mouth over her collarbone and shoulder and up her neck, kissing her lightly at first and then feverishly as his lips sought hers. She stood on her tiptoes to meet his mouth, and when they kissed, the sky opened and a cascade of glittering gems fluttered around them, melting into their skin like snowflakes and briefly filling their bodies with more color and radiance.

Behind Nyota, Sa'aat was silent, unmoving, unmoved.

Speaking against Nyota's mouth, Spock muttered, "Afer-tor du nash-veh, k'diwa. Nash-tor paki-on nash-veh heh du na'shariv t'kae." _(You found me, my beloved. I thought I had lost both myself and you in the mind-storm.)_[7]

"Fai-tor nash-veh, Spahk-kam, fai-tor nash-veh! La'nash-veh. La'nam-tor dular," she replied between kisses to his mouth, chin and jaw line. _(I know, Spock, I know! I'm here. We're both here.)_

"Du eh nash-veh." _(You and I.)_

"Eh Sa'aat. Kuv na'fam ish-veh afer-tor-fam du nash-veh." _(And Sa'aat. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have found you.)_

"Sa'aat hah?" Spock asked, nuzzling her hair. _(Sa'aat?)_

"Hah," Nyota looked back at Sa'aat, a bit concerned. "Za'nash-veh nam-tor ish-veh, Spahk-kam. Gla-tor-fam du hah?" _(Yes. He's right behind me, Spock. Can't you see him?)_

His lips against Nyota's shoulder, Spock lifted his eyes to Sa'aat. "Khushik sasu," he said. _(The crystalline man.)_

"Hah." _(Yes.)_

"Hah, gla-tor ish-veh." Spock pulled himself up to his full height, and gave Sa'aat a well mannered, if exhausted bow. "Tobeg-tor nash-veh, osu - eh tobeg-tor t'nash-veh nuhk'es-fam heh zherka-bosh. Nam-tor ish-veh hah -?" _(Yes, I see him. Forgive me, sir - and forgive my lack of manners and emotionalism. You are-?)_

Nyota put a hand to her mouth, and new tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Sa'aat... He doesn't remember you."

Unexpected emotion hit Sa'aat like a hammer to the chest. For a moment, he felt as though he had stopped breathing, ceased to exist, and the mercurial heart in his crystalline form seized into a tiny hard ball. He coughed to relieve the pressure in his body and brain and then took in a deep breath to compose himself. His inner core took on a greenish cast, as though the copper had suddenly oxidized and tarnished. His voice was calm and flat as he asked Spock outright, "Vokau-fam nash-veh Spahk hah?" _(Do you not remember me, Spock?)_

Spock squinted, trying to see Sa'aat better and help his injured mind to refocus and remember. "Tra'namtor fa'vokaya hi kobat nam-tor tersaya svi'kashek t'nash-veh. S'wilat fai-tor ish-veh than nash-veh, osu, hah?" _(There is some recollection, but the connection is weak in my mind. From where do I know you, sir?)_

Sa'aat remained collected, in control of himself. "T'du savensu wuh'wak vesh'nash-veh - fa'akarshif." _(I was your teacher once - a long time ago.)_

"Savensu hah? Lu nam-tor nu'ri-sasu nash-veh. Svi'kelek t'sa-mekh t'nash-veh. Hah." Spock's eyes brightened. "Gla-tor nash-veh i k'lek il pid-trensu ish-veh! Ya'akash nafu deshker lau-nash-veh hah?" _(Teacher? When I was a young man... in my father's house. Yes. I see you are now an Adept or High Master! May I ask a personal query?)_

"Ya'akash nash-veh nafu istau ish-veh, Spahk-kam." _(Ask me whatever you wish, Spock.)_

"Svi'haolvaya la t'nash-veh, afer-tor nash-veh katra if bolau ver'katra. My'tyez-tor van-kal fal-tor-plak kup du hah?" _(In my travels here, I have found a katra which needs a katric-vessel. Can you perform the ritual to transfer it?)_

"Katra hah?" _(A katra?)_

Spock showed Sa'aat the tiny glowing phial. Sa'aat held his hand, palm down, over the phial and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, his eyes opened and looked at Nyota. "Fascinating."

"What is it?"

"It is _Amanda Grayson_."

"What?"

* * *

Pa'shu let Dr. Surrey hold and rub down her firstborn with a warm towel, while she walked in tight circles in her little den of pillows and attended to her second. The second cub had arrived as simply as the first, and had almost identical coloring. Surrey wondered if all newborn sehlats were this color, or if they got their coat from their papa. Pa'shu licked it all over to get it squirming and squeaking, and then took a few seconds to lap up the afterbirth before hunkering down in her nest to rest. Dr. Surrey placed cub-number-one near her teat. Sightless, it wriggled against her warmth, somehow found a nipple, latched on and started nursing. Cub-number-two was right behind it.

While Pa'shu and her cubs rested, Surrey cleaned and dried the floor, gathered the soiled blankets and towels, tossed them into the laundry chute in his bathroom, got some new, heated blankets from the replicator and placed them over and around the animals. Pa'shu, rolling onto her side, so the cubs could nurse freely, looked once at Surrey, sighed contentedly and dozed off. She was snoring within minutes.

Smiling like a new father, Dr. Surrey grabbed an unused pillow and lay on the floor next to the family. Occasionally, he carefully stroked a cub with his fingertip. "You are so unbelievably tiny," he said in the soft, high voice most Humans employed when speaking to a child of any breed. "How are we ever going to tell you two apart?"

* * *

Nyota and Sa'aat looked at Spock, as Sa'aat asked, "Tor-yehat ish-veh uf hah?" _(How is this possible?)_

Spock explained that on the day Vulcan was destroyed, he had gone to the Katric Ark on Mount Seleya to retrieve his parents and the elders. Nyota nodded to Sa'aat; she had almost lost Spock that day and remembered it very well. While there, Spock continued, he told the elders that there were only seconds left before the planet imploded, and he took his mother's hand to lead her into the open where the _Enterprise's_ transporter beam could reach them. She had first held his hand and then clutched his arm as they exited the Ark. It was during that contact, Spock speculated, the transference of his mother's katra had taken place.(8)

"I didn't think a Human could do anything like that," Nyota said, amazed.

"If she was at the Ark and immersed in deep meditation when Spock arrived, then her mind was already in a state of expansion and fluidity," Sa'aat said. "She had lived on Vulcan for most of her life, and knew the customs and rituals well; well enough that even though she was Human, she was allowed to meditate in the shrine. If she believed death was near and wanted to link with her only son in those final moments, she might have clung to him on every level possible. When her body was lost, her spirit may have snapped away from it, remaining with him."

"But... If Amanda has been with Spock all this time, then why didn't he feel her? Why wasn't he aware of the transference? Why... why couldn't I feel her when he melded with me?"

"Hers is a Human spirit, less trained, less adept, less powerful than a Vulcan katra. It is a feeble essence." Sa'aat motioned to the phial, "As you can see, it hardly generates an aura at all -"

"Nam-tor kobat hi fator-ik sagaya," Spock added. _(The pulse is weak, but persistent.)_

"And it is housed in a phial like the containers created by The Duv. Perhaps Spock's brain did not know what to make of it when it entered him, and banished it to The Duv, where it would be difficult for it to interfere with his conscious mind... or to be perceived by others. However, like most Humans, she was persistent and made herself known. His nightmares of the great machine destroying homesteads buried in the ground... She may have been trying to tell him that his mind was attempting to crush her, blocking the sun - the illumination of her presence."

"How did you know about his nightmares?"

"Nurse Chapel imparted the information to me." Sa'aat said, and then, before Nyota could inquire further, went on with, "When the shariv t'kae caused Spock to retreat inside himself, to follow the currents through his mind as he sought to heal himself, he found the katra... Actually, a transference explains much," he said. "We call those who are the unexpected or unwilling recipients of another's katra _the val'reth_. They can suffer much, holding within their bodies and minds the essence of another."

"Like having multiple personalities?"

"Yes. Some Vulcans have been driven mad by it. In the last moments of Vulcan, before the black hole consumed it, billions were in a state of desperation and flux... They may have reached out to relatives, clung to whatever matter was available to them in an attempt to preserve their katras. There may be Vulcans on New Vulcan filled with essence of the dead and not know it... That might explain the emotional, illogical behavior we have seen in some... This is a revelation. The Council must be made aware of it."

"Vesht gla-tor nash-veh svi'duv t'duv. Ha'ge-sfek. Leh-tehik t'au," said Spock. _(I saw them in the Shadow's shadow. Points of light. Thousands of them.)_

"Is that possible?" Nyota asked. "Can there still be katras surviving so long after the destruction of Vulcan?"

"Surak's katra survived for centuries," Sa'aat answered.

"Osu," said Spock, and Sa'aat looked to him "My'tyez-tor van-kal fal-tor-plak kup du hah?" Spock repeated to Sa'aat. _(Can you perform the ritual to transfer the katra?)_

Sa'aat nodded, "Sos'eh, Spahk-kam. Hi dungi bolau gol-tor nash-veh." _(Perhaps, Spock. But I will require assistance.)_

* * *

Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy were startled when Sarek, who had been standing still beside Spock's bed and focusing his mental energy on his son, suddenly snapped to attention and turned to one of the camera-units recording the events in the medical suite. "Kirk," he commanded. "Meet with me."

Kirk's expression was all questions when he met Sarek in the corridor outside Spock's suite. "What's happening, Ambassador? Is Spock all right?"

"Gilgreni," Sarek said.

Gilgreni stepped from his station by the door. "Yes, Ambassador?"

"Ensure no one enters."

"Yes, Ambassador."

Turning to Kirk, Sarek asked bluntly, "Is it possible for your engineering staff to manufacture a small sealed container made of jasif crystal?"(9)

"Um... I'm not sure."

"Then let us find out together." He took Kirk by the elbow, and led him down the corridor at a quick pace. The captain had never seen Spock's father display such urgency before, and it was unnerving.

"What's going on?"

"Time is of the essence. I will explain on the way."

Twenty minutes later, Sarek returned to Spock's room with a container on a little cart.

Manufacturing the foggy jasif crystal had been a simple process once Sarek had given Scotty the mineral's requisite chemical signature and molecular structure. Forming the crystal into the shape Sarek wanted was only a matter of inputting a template into the ship's transporter system, transporting the rough crystal out and transporting it back, in a form based on the template. The final product was a vaguely feminine, stylized bust about twelve inches high, with a keyhole-like symbol on its throat and a small hollowed-out area inside the skull.

Once the door to Spock's room closed, and Gilgreni was again at his post in the corridor, Sarek rolled the cart next to Sa'aat and placed a hand on the figurine's head. He then put his free hand on the back of Sa'aat's head, creating a physical conduit between them. "Fator," he muttered, as he entered a meditative state. (10)

From their stools in the monitoring room, Kirk and McCoy watched as everything once again went stock-still in Spock's suite for several minutes. It was as though the whole room was holding its breath.

"What's happening?" McCoy asked Kirk, his voice hushed even though he knew that those in Spock's room couldn't hear him.

"I don't really understand the whole process, but... They're trying to pull a spirit out of Spock and place it into that figurine. Sarek called the process the Fal-Tor-Plak."

"Spock's... what, possessed or something?"

"Not exactly... They think it's his mom."

"What?"

"Shhhh!" Kirk waved McCoy into silence. McCoy scowled at him before returning his attention to the monitor.

Sa'aat, eyes still closed, body motionless, moaned. A dull light appeared in the center of his forehead, under his bangs. He drew a deep lungful of air and the point of light moved from his forehead, along the crest of his head, and back toward Sarek's hand. Another deep breath and the light jumped the small gap between Sa'aat's scalp and Sarek's palm.

The captain had never seen Sarek express any emotion, except perhaps mild startlement; even when his homeworld was lost, he had remained a paragon of strict control and stoicism. However, as the light slipped through his arm, across his shoulders and into the jasif bust, thick tears escaped Sarek's closed eyes, and his face tightened with deep anguish before relaxing into bright joy.

The transference was over within moments. Sarek opened his eyes, removed his hands from Sa'aat and the vessel, and took a moment to compose himself.

* * *

As soon as the transference was complete, Sa'aat collapsed to his knees beside the well. Both Spock and Nyota attended him immediately.

"Osu," said Spock.

"Sa'aat, are you okay?" Nyota asked.

"I had not come here with the intention of performing such a feat," Sa'aat said as they helped him to sit on the edge of the well. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands for a few moments.

"Navun-bosh nam-tor ish-veh, osu, hah?" _(Was it successful, sir?)_

"Nash-veh dva-torni hah, Spahk-kam. Hi etek lau ki'uzh wat. Saguhsh-ik nam-tor pideshan." _(I believe so, yes, Spock. However, we may have a new problem. The exertion was exhausting.) _Sa'aat said, slowly lifting his head. To Nyota, he added, "My energy levels are depleted. We may have difficulty extricating ourselves from this place."

Spock took Nyota's hand and interwove their fingers. "Kup-hafau-fam la etek hah?" _(Can we not stay here?)_

"Ri, k'diwa." _(No, beloved.)_

"Po hah?" _(Why?)_

"La'dift-tor-fam etek, Spahk-kam," _(We don't live here, Spock.) _Sa'aat said, and he looked to Nyota. "The longer we stay here, the more difficult it will be to leave."

"How can I help you?"

"Keep him still and focused while I re-center myself. When the time comes, you will need to do whatever I tell you, without question or delay. I do not have the energy to fight with you, nor the time for explanations. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I think so."

Sa'aat watched Nyota draw Spock to another point on the lip of the well and sit with him. She pulled his hand, still clutching hers, into her lap and leaned into him so their foreheads touched. She muttered little endearments and encouragements to him, in Vulcan and in Federation Standard, sometimes speaking to him like one might a child, at times speaking to him as a powerful male who had obligations to meet and people who depended upon him. Spock listened to everything she said, his eyes never leaving her. Even when he shut his eyes to nuzzle his face against hers, he was looking at her - with his mind, his heart.

The Woman gave Spock purpose, Sa'aat understood. The Woman gave him hope. He would live because of her, for her, with her. Spock's connection to her, his desire for her, had led them to him, had made the finding him possible. Had she not been there, Spock might have eluded Sa'aat and been lost forever, a ghost hiding in his own body, trapped within the confines of his damaged brain, until Sa'aat's strength ran out and he had to leave Spock's mind or die there.

Sa'aat knew this. Yet, even as he rejoiced that his friend had been found nearly whole and recoverable, Sa'aat lamented. The idea that most of Spock's memories of him had been destroyed by the shariv t'kae was painful. It hurt to realize Spock's thoughts of him could be so easily eradicated; that he was somehow so - expendable. Sa'aat understood it was illogical for him to grieve over the loss of Spock when Spock had never been his, but his soul wept anyway - thick, heavy Vulcan tears - with a depth of sadness Humans would never experience or understand. It was the kind of raw, agonizing bereavement that had, long ago, driven the warrior Vulcans to self-scarification and the madness of the B'elak Paar (11); that caused them to scream at the night sky, and then send armies to kill within their enemies what they could not kill within themselves. The Stilak T'Lak'tra, the Monsters of Sadness; in Vulcan mythology, they gave birth to the god Kal-ap-ton, the ancient personification of grief.(12)

However, all things in the Universe seek a balance, and, as Surak had taught them, _"a man without logic is like a beast led by the ring in its nose."_ Where grief lies, joy stands nearby, and logic could act as the bridge between the two. Although there was undeniable sadness in the fact that most of Spock's memories of him were obliterated, logic dictated that as long as they were alive, they could build new memories together. Their relationship was not destroyed, only the past version of it. The future afforded them new opportunities, new ways of defining their friendship in terms that might otherwise not have been possible. All was not lost. _"Passions stir up strife, logic appeases the mind,"_ Surak had written, and the words were still true even centuries later.

Sa'aat used logic as a salve against his pain and cleared his mind. He began generating the mental canal they would use to leave Spock's psyche and disengage from the meld holding them together. His crystalline body became clearer; the oxidized pith in the core of his form slowly lost color until his entire body was as transparent as glass. With this level of clarity achieved, he stood and stepped carefully into the center of the well, the waters of Spock's consciousness billowing, foaming, and lapping around his legs.

"Leaving here will be somewhat like being expelled from an orbit," he explained to Nyota and Spock. "You may feel torn away from a haven, displaced, disoriented, suffocated. It is at that time you must be at your strongest. If you falter or struggle against me, I will not be able to hold onto you. And you will be lost - irretrievably. Tell me you understand this."

"Ken-tor nash-veh, osu," Spock said, and Nyota echoed, "I understand."

Sa'aat extended a hand to Spock. "Come into the well with me."

Spock stepped into the water first, and then helped Nyota step over the lip of the well. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles as they walked toward Sa'aat. When they reached the center, the waters beneath them seethed and heaved, and for an instant Nyota felt as though she was being consumed.

Sa'aat closed his eyes, and lifted his hands over his head. "_Haulat_, gol-tor,"(13) he called out, and in the Shuttle Bay, the _Haulat_ blazed with sudden power, its light flooding the compartment, blinding everyone and every instrument around it. At the same moment, a column of white light plunged down from the bejeweled ceiling over the well, engulfing Sa'aat, Spock and Nyota.

"Fortify yourself," Sa'aat said in a voice that seemed to come from everywhere.

"How do I do th-?" Nyota hardly had the chance to say before she was whisked away, as though she were a tiny pea being sucked through a straw or a capsule being vacuumed through a long, white pneumatic tube. Her momentum created a pressure that made her insides hurt. She couldn't breathe. Even though Sa'aat had warned this might happen, when the moment came, it was still terrifying. Then the movement stopped, replaced by a horrible sense of weightlessness, as though she'd been flung off a cliff and was hanging in mid-air before gravity caught her.

* * *

Her back hit the medical suite's floor and a few seconds passed before the lights flickered on, and Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel stood over her, checking her vitals.

In the Shuttle Bay, the glowing force surrounding the _Haulat_ dissipated as the ship drifted from the ceiling toward the floor and floated there silently. The tech crew and engineers who had been temporarily blinded, blinked vision back into their eyes, but saw spots for almost an hour afterward.

On the medical suite's floor, Nyota lifted a shaky hand to protect her eyes from the glare of the overhead lights.

"Your pupils are dilated, honey, so everything probably looks weird to you," Christine was saying.

Nyota turned her head and saw Sa'aat lying in a heap on the floor on the other side of Spock's bed, Sarek and Gilgreni tending to him. Captain Kirk was standing on her side of Spock's bed. Nyota couldn't see his face, but she reached out and tugged on the cuff of his pants until he acknowledged her. "How are you doing?" he asked softly, looking down at her with a smile.

She couldn't speak for a few seconds. She had no air to voice the words her mouth wanted to form.

"Give yourself a second, Nyota," Christine said. "Everything in your brain isn't reconnected yet."

Nyota tried several times to say _Spock_, and Kirk, reading her lips answered quietly, "He's still not awake, but he's just sleeping now; he's not unconscious anymore. It looks good. You did good."

As Medical Bay personnel arrived with hover-gurneys, Dr. McCoy cautioned everyone to remain as quiet as possible. "Uhura and Sa'aat to ICU," he directed. He then looked at Sarek, saying, "Let me check you out, too, Ambassador, just to be on the safe side."

Sarek was reluctant to leave his son and the vre'katra, but nodded, allowing a nurse to escort him from the room behind Sa'aat's gurney. Nyota extended a hand to touch Spock's bed before her gurney was taken from the room. When she couldn't reach him, she dropped it to her chest - and felt the small lump of her silver compass tucked inside her bra. Tears filled her eyes again, though she wasn't quite sure why she was crying, and Christine asked gently, "Are you okay, honey?"

Nyota nodded. "We found our way," she said in a ragged voice.

Christine smiled. "You always do."

* * *

(1) **Seshan-kharat-thonek. Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh :** " Seshan-kharat-thonek" is the Vulcan word for "_compass_"; literally translated it means "_magnetic direction meter_". The sentence, "Pak-tor-fam tun-tor ish-veh," translate as, _"Take care not to lose it."_ In **Chapter** **8** of this story, this is what Spock said to Nyota when he gave her the compass.

(2) **Kanu pukeshta-tor bosh-manu panu, worla oren-tor uf yauluhk nam-tor masu. **Translated from the Vulcan this means, _"Children born to a water-filled world never learn how important water is."_ This is actually paraphrasing the words of author William Ashworth, in his book, Nor Any Drop to Drink, ©1982, in which he wrote: _" Children of a culture born in a water-rich environment, we have never really learned how important water is to us. We understand it, but we do not respect it." _**Author's note: **The water analogy works both with Spock's coming from a desert planet were water had to be respected, and also speaks to his current mental dilemma where once his highly organized and knowledge-filled (water-filled) mind has gone through trauma - and he's realizing how important that knowledge is to him.

(3) **Check** the math; I think it's right

(4) **Absolute magnitude:** This is a celestial object's brightness.

(5) **Warp Speed:** This is based on the old TOS formula; the formula changed a bit throughout the series and movies. An in-depth discussion of the formulae is available at the "Warp Velocities FAQ" site on-line.

(6) **This according to "Black holes aren't black - After Hawking they shine!"** presented by Angie, Matthias and Thorsten, Team C007571,ThinkQuest Internet Challenge 2000._ "...__The formula tells us that the lifetime of a black hole is proportional to the cube of its mass. That means a massive black hole takes proportionally much longer time to evaporate, and the process of evaporation accelerates as the black hole slowly loses its mass. This is known as the "runaway" effect." _

(7) **Conversation:** Usually I would put the translations in an end note, but some of the conversations in Spock's mind are going to be too lengthy for endnoting, so I added the translation from the Vulcan to Federation Standard right in with the rest of the text. I hope it's not too distracting.

(8) **The scene at the Katric Ark:** This was based in part on the scene in the 2009 motion picture "Star Trek" and in part on Trek canon. In Trek canon, any transference of a katra from person to person requires that there be physical contact between the parties, preferably skin-to-skin contact. If you watch the Katric Ark scene in the 2009 movie closely, you'll see that Spock and Amanda are touching throughout it, and Amanda only releases her hold on Spock right before the cliff collapses under her. I just took all of these preexisting elements and created a scenario in which Amanda could have transferred her essence to Spock.

(9) **Jasif crystal:** According to the Memory Beta site, this kind of crystal was often used to create vre'katras (katric vessels also called "Urns of Memory") _"...Traditionally, Vulcans would craft such items from volcanic glass, __jasif__ crystal or polished __tir-nuk__ wood."_

(10) **Fator**: the Vulcan word for "continue" or "proceed".

(11) **B'elak paar:** the Vulcan phrase for exaggerated self-pity.

(12) **Author's Note**: Kal-ap-ton is the Vulcan god of grief, but the Stilak T'Lak'tra, the Monsters of Sadness, are my own creation.

(13) _**Haulat**_**, gol-tor:** this translates from the Vulcan as "_Haulat_, assist!"


	17. Chapter 17

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

Thank you, as always, to my great beta Farstrider, and to my former beta Josie who is still giving me advice on the side! Thank you, too, to everyone who sent in name suggestions for Pa'shu's cubs! The names have been chosen and appear in this chapter (along with recognition of the persons who submitted the names).

And, as with the other chapters, the numbers you see throughout the text, like (8), are for end notes that explain terms or give readers more background information.

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:**

Kirk's morning was a whirlwind of activity. He'd hardly had the chance to check in with McCoy when the _Martin James_, _Merton_ and _Laurant Despins_ arrived ahead of schedule. He had a quick breakfast in his command chair while exchanging pleasantries, a few crude jokes and possible course corrections with the other captains, and arranged with Ambassador McCormick, on the _Laurant Despins_, to have the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation beamed aboard the _Enterprise_. He then rushed to the transporter room to be with Ambassador Sarek and Gilgreni when the delegates arrived.

The ten Fonn Vuhlkansu delegates included the child Tasmeen, who, at about nine years old, looked like a miniature adult: her soft curls accentuated with pearls, and her long chalice-like dress covering her from neck to ankles. Captain Kirk had met her, and the others, when in response to the Ek'tevan Prerogative, they had renounced their Vulcan citizenship and fled from New Vulcan with Spock. The Fonn Vuhlkansu was a small but well-organized group who believed in a less isolationist approach to interplanetary relations than the Traditionalists who had controlled the Transitional Council when the New Vulcan colony was established. The group had sought to form closer ties with the Federation - which they believed could offer the Vulcans protection and support while they rebuilt their race - and also sanctioned and encouraged their followers to find _tel-ketelau_ (1) among other species associated with the Federation, preferably Humans. Most of the Fonn Vuhlkansu were "young" by Vulcan standards, and not one of the delegates who had beamed over from the _Laurant Despins_ was even close to Sarek's age.

Sarek was their patriarch, the learned elder among them. His diplomatic career and standing in the scientific community were highly venerated by the Traditionalists, although his progressive viewpoints had made him something of an outcast. His previous attempt to bring the Fonn Vuhlkansu to power on New Vulcan had met with stiff resistance from the then-standing military-backed Transitional Council; and some of his peers had suggested he was, in his old age, becoming as rebellious and revolutionary as his sons. Once, Sarek might have taken insult at the comparison; now, he chose to accept it as a backhanded compliment. Although his sons did not always comport themselves with the decorum and self-control he would have preferred, they were men of passion and intelligence who, like himself, believed true self-awareness, and long-term stability and security for the Vulcan people, could come only from challenging the status quo and making changes where necessary.

"A lack of growth and evolution condemn all species to inevitable extinction," he had once told his sons, paraphrasing the words of Surak. Apparently, they had taken him at his word. Sybok had embraced the ways of the emotionally expressive _V'tosh ka'tur,_ and Spock had embraced the ideals of passive resistance, quietly challenging and testing many of Vulcan's deepest traditions, rejecting anything he deemed to be illogical, unsubstantiated, or archaic.

Four of the males in the delegation, K'Rel, Serran, Sol't'gol and Stilvan, were all Spock's age or younger, and had supported Spock when he refused to acquiesce to the Ek'tevan Prerogative. Slim, elegant figures, each with the classic bang-style haircut, three were brown-eyed brunettes. The exception, Serran, had slightly lighter coloring and odd, violet eyes. The fifth male, Sionak, was the real standout, however. An ex-Chamber Guard, he was about fifty-years-old and sometimes acted as Sa'aat's right-arm, personal bodyguard and go-fer. He stood over six-foot-five and weighed several hundred pounds. Kirk had seldom seen Vulcans of this body-type, and admitted to himself that he found Sionak's presence more than a little intimidating.

Of the four remaining females in the delegation, two, T'Kela, who Kirk remembered was S'Risha's bob-haired bondmate, and T'Zantha were about Spock's age. Enteria and T'Stala were older, pregnant and both dealing with the symptoms of placenta previa. Thick decorative straps extended from the shoulders of their maternity gowns, around their ripe bellies and held up their girth. Like S'Risha in the Medical Bay, both women hid their discomfort behind a mask of long-practiced Vulcan stoicism.

After providing Enteria and T'Stala with gurneys so they wouldn't have to walk in their condition, Kirk had Yeoman Rand escort everyone to the Medical Bay. Sarek chatted quietly with all of them along the way, while little Tasmeen trailed after them like a soundless shadow.

Back on the bridge, Kirk took about an hour to catch up on the ship's status and check the duty roster for the day, before heading back to the Medical Bay to check on everyone. By the time he had reached the bay, the only Fonn Vuhlkansu members there were T'Stala and Enteria, now resting comfortably on biobeds sporting copies of the prototype version of the MAGGIe, T'Kela, who sat on a stool beside S'Risha's bed, and Sionak, who stood beside Sa'aat's bed.

Sa'aat's eyes were sharp and focused, and his body radiated vigor as his long legs dangled over the bed's side. The only sign of his ordeal from the night before were the grey-green circles under his eyes. He leaned toward Sionak, deep in conversation, their voices too low to be easily overheard. Nurse Chapel approached them without any sign of trepidation, even though she was dwarfed standing next to Sionak - Kirk admired her self-assurance and spunk - and said to Sa'aat, "Okay, Dr. McCoy has released you from the Medical Bay. You're free to go now."

Sa'aat gave her a flat look over his shoulder and said with stony stillness, "I have always been free to go. I simply chose to stay here until I felt more fully recovered."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself to make it through the day is fine with me, honey," Christine quipped, patting Sa'aat's hand. She walked off, grinning. Sionak, eyebrows arched in surprise at her familiarity, threw Sa'aat a look of astonishment that was characteristically ignored by his superior.

"He's gonna smack her one of these days," McCoy muttered from behind Kirk.

Kirk chuckled in response. "If he tries, Christine will knock him flat."

"Never underestimate a Human woman."

"You said it." The captain turned to McCoy, asking, "Speaking of Human women, where's Uhura?"

"Where else? In with Spock."

"How are they doing?"

"I've released Lieutenant Uhura for duty, but go easy on her. She's still pretty worn out from last night."

"And Spock?"

"Physically, he seems okay, but - Come with me." McCoy escorted Kirk to his office, where they could speak without being overheard.

As he closed the door, McCoy continued, "I've asked Dr. Surrey to run a battery of tests on him, to determine where he is emotionally and cognitively, and to measure what neurological and non-neurological damage, if any, was done by the shariv t'kae. The good news is, Spock knows who he is and where he is; his long-term memory seems intact, although he's a little fuzzy on things relating to his earlier connection to Sa'aat. He knows how all the machines work, and accessed the computer without needing to be shown how to do that. As far as my cursory examination can tell, however, he's lost almost a year of memories. He recalls the destruction of Vulcan and defeating Nero, and he remembers being called to New Vulcan, but after that, things are pretty much a blank for him - until this morning when he came to in his room. The only thing he seems clear about, over that period, is Uhura herself."

"Crap, Bones, you're telling me we're going to have to sit Spock down and tell him what happened to him on New Vulcan - about the plak-tau women, the rapes, and everything - all over again? I swear to God, I don't think I can watch him go through that for a second time."

"I agree, but we might not have a choice," McCoy said. "On the bright side, though, there is the real possibility the trauma has been wiped out; Spock might be able to take in the information without re-living it or being re-traumatized by it. Surrey will be able to tell us more once he's had a chance to work a bit with him."

"I want you working with him, too, Bones. I need my Science Officer back; I need Spock on the bridge with me..."

"Believe me, I understand how much Spock means to you and to the _Enterprise_, but Jim, you've got to remember we're in a crisis situation here with New Vulcan, and that involves more than just your First Officer. I'm going to be in medical conferences all day today, and for the next week or so I'll be assisting Dr. M'Benga and Dr. Deerfoot with the coordination of medical services planetside, so I won't be much help in the short term as far as Spock is concerned. Dr. Surrey, however, has cleared his schedule so he can be with Spock as much as possible over the next few days; he will get Spock up-to-speed before we arrive at New Vulcan. The more prepared he is for what he encounters there, the better."

"Hold on. I'm all for re-educating Spock if necessary, but I am not letting him back down onto New Vulcan, not after what he's been through."

"Jim, it's his homeworld now. If all his traumatic memories were obliterated by the shariv t'kae, he may want to be with his people and lend a hand there."

"Bones, I - "

McCoy put a hand up in surrender. "I know, I know. But we have a couple of days before we get to the planet. Let's just see how things play out. Okay?"

Kirk shook his head, but then shrugged in acquiescence. "Fine. Can I see him?"

"Absolutely. It might be a good idea to knock first, though. He and Uhura might be... you know, engaged."

"He's feeling that good this morning?"

"He's a Vulcan; they rebound from medical problems like rubber balls. Must be something in that damned green blood of theirs."

* * *

At the door of the private suite, Kirk pressed the chime button and only waited a few seconds before Nyota, who seemed bright and chipper despite whatever fatigue she felt, greeted him. She wore a Starfleet-issued red pantsuit and was dressed for duty, her hair pulled into a high ponytail that bobbed as she moved. Spock sat on the biobed, his back to the wall below the monitors, his crossed legs stretched out over the bed's length. He was dressed in black pants and a black t-shirt, but was barefoot. The side table held the remains of his barely eaten breakfast. He was sipping tea and reading information displayed on a small bedside monitor when Kirk entered, and he shifted his position in an attempt to come to attention.

The captain shook his head, saying, "At ease, Spock," as he took in the state of the room. The place was pristine; the meditation lamp and jasif crystal vre'katra were gone. The only hint a ritual had taken place there the night before was the faint scent of frankincense in the air. Nyota drew his attention away from their surroundings as she said, her tone positive and buoyant, "I was just on my way to my station on the bridge, Captain."

"Are you sure you feel up to that? You're welcome to take an extra day's leave if you need it," Kirk offered.

"No, I'm fine. There's a lot going on and I don't want to miss anything. Besides, I think Spock can do without me for a few hours."

"Yes, I believe I can," Spock said.

Nyota laughed at his frank remark. "See? Except for some memory loss, he's himself again, Captain." Her ponytail bounced as she turned back to Spock. "Hafau muhl, Spahk-kam."

"Nakarat kup-terkadau dungi nash-veh, k'diwa." (2)

Stepping out of Kirk's way, Nyota blew Spock a kiss and left for her shift.

"That is an extraordinary and resilient lady," Kirk said.

"Indisputably." Spock set his tea aside so he could give his full attention to the captain.

Considering what he had been through, Spock looked remarkably well to Kirk: he seemed alert and composed, all the gauges on the biobed registered in the **NORM** range, and his color looked good - for a Vulcan; as a people, they were always a little green around the gills. His right eye was still discolored by the hemorrhage in the sclera, but otherwise he appeared surprisingly normal. The Vulcan capacity for recovery was astonishing. "I'd ask how you were feeling, but you'd just tell me you're fine and ask to be put back on duty."

"I am physically fit, Captain."

"Yeah, well, just the same, I'll wait for Dr. Surrey to clear you before I make a final decision about that. Both Dr. McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura mentioned memory loss..."

"Yes, it appears I am missing a block of memories stemming from approximately eight months ago until this morning."

"And... how do you feel about that?"

"Any mental dysfunction is a cause for some concern, Captain; however, I have been going through my personal journals -" Spock indicated the small bedside monitor. "- and I do not believe that whatever deficiency in memory I may have sustained as a result of the shariv t'kae will have a substantial impact on my ability to perform my duties as First Officer."

"You've read your personal journals -?"

"Yes, Captain."

"So, you know you went to New Vulcan -?"

"Where I was subjected to the demands of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, yes, Captain."

"Where you were subjected to..." The captain echoed; he couldn't believe how nonchalant Spock sounded. _Where you were raped and forced to procreate; and where you relinquished your Vulcan citizenship, Spock._ "Spock. Don't you...? Do you remember any of it?"

Spock shook his head slowly. "I have no independent memory of the events."

"Going through your journals... about what happened to you... It must have elicited some kind of a response. Don't you... feel anything?"

"I admit, I did experience an initial flush of moral outrage over the fact that my rights were reft from me in such a fashion by the edict; however, what was done, was done. It cannot be undone. Logic dictates that I not waste time, or emotion, or mental energy on past actions, but rather, consider now what do to next; how to best address the possibility that I might be a father; how to best assist the mothers of my offspring - if offspring exist."

"And what will you do?"

"I have not yet made a decision. My journals indicate Lieutenant Uhura and I discussed the matter briefly, but... I am not satisfied, within myself, that the topic has been sufficiently analyzed. There are the needs and desires of the plak-tau women to consider, after all, as well as the fact that my Starfleet duties, and my relationship with Lieutenant Uhura, will undoubtedly be impacted by all of this. I will wait for more complete data before settling on a final determination."

It was odd hearing Spock speak this way. He was using the tone and speech patterns Kirk had heard him use when they first met at the Academy; when Spock's inclination toward him was more adversarial than cooperative. Over the last year or so, as they had become far more comfortable with one another, far more trusting and supportive of one another, the edge in Spock's voice had moderated considerably, and the inflexibility in his thought patterns had soften to accommodate the "illogical Humans" around him. Now, it seemed, he and Spock were back to square one... or maybe square two or three; but they had certainly lost some ground with one another in their relationship. It was something the captain hadn't expected or considered, and now that he realized the loss, he felt the dejection that came with it.

Kirk looked at the foot of the bed, tried to conceal the hurt in his face, and then looked back up at Spock. "And, um... Do your personal journals include more recent entries?"

"Yes. Apparently, I had some interesting interactions with my half-brother, Sybok, and later brought a sehlat named Pa'shu aboard the _Enterprise_," Spock said emotionlessly, as though he had been reading an encyclopedia and was giving the captain a recap of the information he'd uncovered. His lack of despair over his memory loss and what that loss entailed was, for Kirk, both reassuring and distressing. The captain was glad Spock wasn't feeling distressed anymore, but he was concerned that maybe the Vulcan had detached himself so completely from his emotional base he no longer felt anything at all.

"About the sehlat," said Spock. "May I ask where she is?"

"She's with Surrey. She had her cubs last night; two of them, a boy and a girl."

"I must remember to thank the doctor for his assistance. The sehlat is my responsibility, and I regret he was put into the position of having to tend to her."

_No reaction to the news of the births_, Kirk noted. "I don't think Surrey minded. I actually think the births were kind of fun for him."

"Indeed."

"Don't be surprised if he asks to adopt one of the cubs."

"Such an adoption would be highly unlikely," Spock said bluntly, and Kirk scowled a little hearing too much of the self-contained, superior, _"one of our most distinguished graduates"-Spock _in the tone, but he said nothing in response. "According to the ship's logs," Spock continued, "our heading is taking us directly to New Vulcan. There is a medical emergency taking place there."

"Yeah. We rendezvoused with the medical frigates and brought the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation aboard just a little while ago. We should reach New Vulcan in two or three days."

"Sixty-nine hours, forty-seven minutes, given our current speed," Spock corrected him. "Will the Federation have a delegation present at the meeting with the new Transitional Council when it convenes?"

"Uh, yeah. Ambassador McCormick will be the lead delegate, and several senior officers from the Federation will be backing her."

"Including you."

"I've been asked to attend, yeah, but I'm not sure..."

"May I go with you?"

Kirk gave Spock a long, appraising look before answering, "Are you sure you want to go back there, Spock?"

"I believe I could be of assistance to the Federation delegation in regards to Vulcan customs and traditions, as well as act as a translator. I recognize Lieutenant Uhura is, in most regards, an unmatched interpreter, but I am more versed in the nuances of Vulcan linguistics, especially those which may be employed in a diplomatic setting such as this one."

"Well... Let's have Dr. Surrey check you out first, and then I'll let you know what I decide."

"Very well," Spock said, reaching for his cup of tea, and returning his attention to his journals.

The captain watched him for a moment, and ventured, "If we do attend the Council meeting, wouldn't you rather stand with your father and the Fonn Vuhlkansu?"

"No," Spock said frankly. "My allegiance is to the Federation."

"But... It's your dad and... your people, Spock."

Spock cradled the teacup between his hands, and thought for a moment before answering. "My father is quite capable of representing the principles and ideals of the Fonn Vuhlkansu without my standing beside him, Captain. Further, I suspect he would prefer I was not a part of his delegation."

"Well... okay," Kirk said. He wasn't satisfied with Spock's response, but... Really, he thought to himself, what did he expect?

* * *

Dr. Surrey stood back while Tasmeen and Sarek looked in on Pa'shu and her cubs. The newborns, asleep between their proud mother's forepaws, sporadically kicked and hiccupped as they dreamed. Tasmeen sat down on the floor in front of Pa'shu and scooted toward her.

"I'm no expert at sexing sehlats, of course, but I think there's a boy and a girl."

Sarek reached down to carefully turn each cub. "Yes. So it would seem."

"I didn't name them yet. I thought Spock should be the one to do that."

"Usually, sehlats name themselves. When they are approximately six months old, they come into full self-awareness, and at that time select a unique autonym. However, it is not uncommon for their custodians to provide them with _'pet names'_ in the interim; and, on occasion, sehlats will retain the pet names as their own."

Tasmeen picked up one of the cubs and cradled it in her lap. Pa'shu extended her muzzle to snuff the child, and made sure her cub was comfortable before returning to her sphinx-like position.

"Spock had a sehlat as a child, didn't he?" Surrey prompted.

"Yes, I-Chaya. It was actually my pet before it was Spock's. Has Spock indicated how he intends to see to this animal's long-term care?"

"It was my understanding he was going to try to find survivors from Pa'shu's original caregivers' family, and if that failed, he was going to donate her and her cubs to the Vulcan people."

"It seems a considerate and logical course of action."

"Yes, I agree. If I may say so, sir, your son has a lot of compassion, and he seems very devoted to his people and his homeworld. I think that says a lot about you and how you raised him."

If Sarek was flattered by the compliment, his face did not show it. Instead, he replied without looking at the doctor, "Compassion and devotion to Vulcan were also quite indicative of his mother."

Surrey had heard about last night's fal-tor-pak ritual. "She... has been returned to you."

"Yes," Sarek replied. "We are gratified that her katra survived the holocaust. It was... an unexpected outcome."

Dr. Surrey didn't pretend to understand the process, but he was encouraged by the fact that since Spock's mother's katra no longer resided within him, Spock's mental health prognosis might now greatly improve. "Where is the vre'katra now?" he asked.

"In my quarters. We thought it best to remove it from Spock's proximity until he is more fully recovered."

"Well... I'm glad the transference went well."

"As am I." Sarek took a few moments as if to stifle some surge of emotionalism inside himself, and then stretched his hand down for Tasmeen to take. "Come, child. We are keeping the doctor from his duties."

"Oh, no, no," Dr. Surrey said quickly. "It's fine. I can go check on Spock, and you two can stay here as long as you want. I don't mind. Besides, I think Pa'shu likes the company."

"What say you?" Sarek asked Tasmeen.

She lifted the cub up in her arms and hugged it against her cheek.

"She accepts your offer, and wishes to remain here."

"Okee-dokee," Surrey smiled as he gathered up some PADDs before heading out the door.

* * *

Sa'aat stepped into the _Haulat _with Sionak right behind him. They rode the turbolift to the ship's upper deck, and as Sa'aat checked the various systems on the bridge, he said, "The _Haulat_ can make the trip to New Vulcan faster than the Federation ships. I can go there, reconnoiter, and rejoin you in the city before the Council convenes. I would like to be ready to leave by this evening, if not before."

"I foresee no hindrance to that timetable, osu."

"Good. When we reach the planet's surface, I want you to meet with our people and ensure security measures are in place to protect the Ambassador and our delegation. Be discreet, but do not allow the military or the standing Council to impede your efforts in any way. The safekeeping of Sarek and the Fonn Vuhlkansu is imperative. Meanwhile, I will go to the Mazhiv Solai and find T'Pau's hiding hole."

"And when you find her?"

Sa'aat looked up from his work at Sionak and said, "She may wholly regret the encounter."

* * *

"I'm telling you, Doc, it was kind of creepy."

"Can you define 'creepy' for me, Captain?" Dr. Surrey asked. He had met Kirk in a corridor near Medical Bay, and had stopped when the captain flagged him down.

"It's like nothing has happened to him at all. There's no anxiety, no grief, no perplexity, nothing. He spoke to me about his hallucinations of Sybok in the same breath he mentioned Pa'shu, like... I don't know, like they were items on a grocery list or something, like he's completely emotionally severed from what happened to him."

"If we were talking about a Human patient, I'd say such a display of indifference would be a cause for concern, but we're talking about a Vulcan here. You know Vulcans pride themselves in their ability to stay at arm's length from their emotions."

"He's not an arm's length, Doc. He's, like, light years away."

Surrey thought for a moment. Observations by friends and relatives were never to be summarily dismissed or ignored when it came to examining the emotional or psychological health of a patient. "Okay," he said. "I'm... I'm going to keep your concerns in mind, Captain, and thank you for your input."

"About how long will the testing take?"

"I'll have an appraisal for you first thing tomorrow morning; I promise."

* * *

The medical symposiums scheduled for that day started promptly at ten-thirty-hours even though there was a last minute rush to get Scotty and Dr. McCoy to the conference room on time. Again, there was standing room only in Medical Conference Room One, but today Kirk had a seat reserved for himself in advance, so when he arrived late, he didn't have to stand through the presentations.

Before Dr. M'Benga began his series of in-depth seminars on Vulcan anatomical systems, surgery, emergency intervention techniques and anesthesiology, the engineers displayed the different versions of the MAGGIe they had fabricated overnight. All of the designs were sleek and innovative, with the Ionians' version, which looked more like a piece of jewelry than a medical device, being the most decorative. After comparing and deciding which version could best be mass-produced and tested in the time allowed, a composite of the original MAGGIe and the Ionian design was chosen. Kirk was impressed with the cooperation and competence displayed by all of the teams and congratulated them openly. Specs in hand, the engineers then departed from their respective conference rooms and set off to manufacture working versions of the units as quickly as possible.

After a brief break, Dr. Jabilo Geoffrey M'Benga began his presentations, and in deference to him, the packed conference rooms were silent. Dr. M'Benga was the Federation's foremost expert in Vulcan physiology. Even without his credentials, he was a striking and commanding figure; handsome, dark-skinned, poised and eloquent, with a no-nonsense approach to medicine that, Kirk imagined, the Vulcan medical community had appreciated and admired. It wasn't easy for a Human to work in Vulcan medical wards, and the fact that M'Benga had excelled during his four-year internship with the Vulcan Medical Academy Hospital, was quite impressive.

"Doctors and nurses, only. Translate please: Tra'nam-tor nasik kusut svi'weh-neik feshek t'nash-veh," he said, and waited for a response from his listeners. In each of the conference rooms, the medical staffers looked at one another, or whispered to one another, trying to decipher the sentence. Christine Chapel raised her hand.

"Yes, Nurse -?"

"Chapel, Christine."

"Yes. Translation, please."

"_There is a sharp pain in my lower abdomen._"

"Correct. Excellent." M'Benga looked to the other participants. "And while Nurse Chapel is addressing her patient's complaint of abdominal pain, what are the rest of you going to be doing?"

He was answered with frustrated muttering and embarrassed shuffling. "But are the Vulcans really going to be speaking to us in Vulcan?" someone from the _Martin James_ finally asked. "I mean, don't they all pretty much know Federation Standard?"

"Yes and yes," M'Benga replied. "Although Vulcans are, in general, well-versed in Federation Standard, you'll find that in situations in which their physical wellbeing is compromised, and they're devoting a lot of mental energy to controlling their pain and other symptoms, they often revert back to their native language. I would, therefore, strongly suggest if you don't have ready access to xenolinguists who are fluent in Golic Vulcan, that you at least get your hands on a Universal Translator, so you're not standing with your mouth open when your Vulcan patient speaks to you."

Kirk leaned toward McCoy and muttered, "Better get Scotty's team to grind out more translators for us, too."

McCoy showed him the PADD in his hand and whispered, "Already on it, Captain. Not that we need them, of course, with Chapel and Uhura on our team." Kirk smirked proudly and nodded. Yes, the _Enterprise_ did have something of a linguistic coup with those two - and Spock, of course - aboard.

"My first lecture will be on the Vulcan endocrine system," M'Benga said, "also known as the tvi-sau-torektra; then we'll move on from there to the circulatory system or da-kuvau-torektra, the nervous system or welekra-torektra, the respiratory system or pa'kizh-torektra, and end up with the reproductive system or the kanashivaya-_what_?"

"—Torektra?" someone from the _Merton_ offered aloud.

"Yes. Excellent. There, we've already learned one Vulcan word - _torektra_, system - and we've only been at this for about five minutes." Somewhat nervous laughter filled the rooms. "Keep paying close attention and you'll all do fine."

* * *

Dr. Surrey found Spock kneeling near the far wall in the lesh'riq position, eyes closed and fingers steepled before him (3), when he entered the Vulcan's medical suite. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I didn't realize you were meditating."

Spock rose gracefully to his feet, "There is no need to apologize. The interruption was not entirely unexpected." Although he didn't remember spending time with him, something clicked in Spock's mind when Dr. Surrey entered the room; as though a light bulb flashed on inside his mind and then burned out immediately with a distinctive and somewhat frustrating *pop*. "I had been informed I would be evaluated by the ship's Chief of Psychiatric Medicine."

"You're trying to remember when you last saw me."

"Yes. I understand from my journals I have met with you on at least three previous occasions; however, I am at a loss to recall any details from those encounters."

"Your shariv t'kae is responsible for that."

"That was my conclusion as well. The general overriding concern then is: what caused the shariv t'kae?"

"Do your journals tell you anything that might help to answer that question?" Surrey asked, rolling a stool to the biobed and sitting down.

Spock remained standing, his hands behind his back, offering his side to the doctor rather than his chest, and speaking across his shoulder. He stepped away from the wall, to a position where the bed was no longer between them, which Surrey took as an indication Spock was going to be open and frank with him. "I had been ordered by the captain to participate in a mental evaluation after experiencing recurrent nightmares and a hallucination. During our preliminary session, you offered assistance with the interpretation of my dreams. The following day, I confronted you on the Observation Deck regarding a meeting you had with Dr. McCoy, Captain Kirk, Sa'aat, and others regarding my medical and mental health status; this, after spending the evening in a delusional state in which I apparently entertained my brother Sybok at dinner."

_He speaks to the nightmares, hallucination and delusion without any emotional connection to them at all; the shariv t'kae burned out those connections. _"So, you now understand Sybok wasn't aboard the _Enterprise_?"

"I believe it is more than apparent that his presence aboard this vessel was unlikely. Although the references to nightmares, hallucinations and delusion are indicative of a psychologically compromised mindset, they do not speak to any specific trauma that might have initiated a reaction as severe as a shariv t'kae. Something more must have triggered the attack."

"Yes. We believe it might have been a response to an array of overlapping stressors."

Spock lifted his chin and cocked his head in interest. "Could you elucidate, Doctor?"

"I can, but... Do you feel up to tackling information like that? You've just recovered from a shariv t'kae and a Katau Fa'ark."

"I believe a full accounting will better assist you in your current evaluation of me, while also bettering my chances to return to active duty."

"That was very nicely put, Mister Spock, but you didn't answer my question."

Spock's eyebrows flinched together and his lips flattened in a frown that he dismissed as soon as it showed itself. He stepped to the end of the biobed and set a hand against its frame. _He's bracing himself,_ Surrey thought. _But is he bracing himself against the knowledge associated with the shariv t'kae, or is he bracing himself for a fight with me?_ Surrey waited while Spock looked at the biobed's monitors. Spock wasn't reading the gauges, which couldn't register anything since he wasn't on the bed; he simply needed some place to focus for a moment. "Your query, if I may paraphrase, seeks to discover if I believe I am competent, mentally and emotionally, to face and accept whatever the impetus was for my shariv t'kae."

"Correct -"

Spock faced the doctor. "The answer to your question is, yes."

"Okay, good. Then let's get started with the evaluations, Mister Spock, and we'll work our way up from there."

"As you wish," Spock said, turning his full chest to Surrey, his hands behind his back, putting himself at a sort of parade rest, the posture implying he was open and willing to accept direction without being too formal.

* * *

"As you can see," Dr. M'Benga indicated a display on the monitors, "the Vulcan female has nothing that equates to the Human Fallopian tubes; the uterus is connected to the ovaries through these stubby ducts. Therefore, in answer to your question, you won't have to worry about dealing with ectopic pregnancies among the plak-tau women. Next?"

Someone from the _Laurant Despins_ asked, "What about PIH?"

"Pregnancy induced hypertension is uncommon among Vulcans. Even during birth, with their bodies flooded with hormones, females are able to exert control over their emotional and physiological systems. You most likely won't see PIH, hormonally reactive emotionalism, or even expressions of pain in these women. Because of that, it's imperative that you are in constant verbal communication with your patient. Just because she's not showing discomfort doesn't mean she isn't feeling it."

"I've heard," one of the Denobulans said, "that Vulcan births are _dry_. Is that an accurate assessment?"

"The Vulcan body is made to retain and re-circulate as much fluid as possible, so in comparison to, say, a Human birth, the Vulcan birth may be considered somewhat 'dry', yes. However, it's not dry in the sense that it's arid. What you'll encounter during the birthing process are thick viscous fluids resembling machine oil. The fluids expelled through the birth canal should be translucent and without any appreciable amount of blood in them. If you encounter fluid with a green or greenish-black tint to it, it could be indicative of hemorrhage; if the fluid is opaque looking, it may be indicative of infection. Either presentation should be addressed immediately."

A hand went up on the _Merton_, and a medical tech said, "We've already established we're going to be dealing with placenta previa and placental abruption among the plak-tau women. Will that increase the risk of vasa previa?"

"The short answer is yes," Dr. M'Benga said. "Although Vulcan physiology has adapted over millennia to the fact that Vulcan women carry their fetuses low in the body to accommodate the placement of the heart and lung structures, the low-lying placement of the placenta does sometimes give way to complications like vasa previa (4). Therefore, you're going to have to screen your patients for this condition prior to delivery. Also, make sure you have plenty of Vulcan plasma available to any patient who presents this complication. At birth, fetal exsanguination due to vasa previa will be rapid, and the mortality rate is about seventy-five percent if the condition catches you off guard."

"Will the Vulcans have plasma available to us or will we have to replicate it?" a nurse on the _Oc'c_ asked.

"The Vulcans have blood stores available, except for the more rare types, like T-negative and VG-positive. If you have a patient with a rare blood type, you may have to find a suitable donor, tap a pint and then replicate whole blood plasma based on that specific donation."

Christine raised her hand. "Doctor, we may have the added complication of hybrid physiologies to deal with," she said, speaking to the possibility Spock might have fathered offspring with his plak-tau females, but careful not to name names.

"What sort of hybrid are we referring to? Vulcan-to-Romulan would pose less of a complication than, say, Vulcan-to-Human or Vulcan-to-Andorian."

"Vulcan-Human," Christine answered.

"Ratio?"

"Three-to-one, Vulcan."

"In such a case, if the mother is Vulcan, and the Vulcan factor in the fetus so outweighs the Human factor, the chances of extreme complications are few. If the Vulcan mother has carried her hybrid fetus into the third trimester, chances of spontaneous miscarriage are low; however, she may require vitamin and enzyme supplements to carry the fetus to term. Now, that doesn't mean you should ignore the species variance. Anything that can cause a complication in the pregnancy or birth needs to be addressed. Next question?"

* * *

Mr. Scott intercepted Nyota in the corridor as she made her way to Medical Bay during her lunch break and presented a package he held under his arm to her. "Lassie, this came over from the Denobulan ship. One of their people snagged it just before beaming off of Jagusch-McGillis." Nyota took the package and saw it was addressed not to her but to Spock. Scotty nodded, adding, "I thought maybe you could deliver it to him."

"Thanks, Monty, I will," Nyota smiled at him, and continued toward the bay. Scotty grinned as he watched her walk away, her hair swaying to the same rhythm as her hips. She was the only one on the ship who called him "Monty", and the idea of that just tickled him to his core.

Outside Spock's medical suite, Nyota had to wait a few minutes for Spock and Dr. Surrey to finish one of their tests. Surrey exited the suite first; typing into his PADD, oblivious to everyone around him. Spock followed him, and Nyota set the package on a nearby prep table so she could stand on her tiptoes and wrap her arms around his neck. Although he did not readily return the embrace, he didn't step away from it either, so Nyota chalked his reticence up to the fact he was probably preoccupied with whatever he had been discussing with Surrey.

She touched his face lightly, letting her fingertip trace the orbit around his injured eye. Feeling the coolness of her skin against his, he closed his eyes appreciatively, for a moment.

"How is your day going so far?" she asked him.

"The evaluations are tedious and time-consuming, but necessary, I suppose," he uttered.

"And what has Dr. Surrey said about them?"

"He has not yet shared his opinion with me." Spock opened his eyes and focused on her, earnest and affirming. "However, I do not anticipate protracted delay to my being reinstated to active duty."

Nyota grinned and, letting her hands slip down his shoulders to the center of his chest, said, "I am so glad, Spock. You deserve some good news; you really do. Are you finished here? Can you join me for lunch?"

"I must meet with Dr. Surrey in his office at fourteen-hundred hours for further evaluation, but I am free until then. Where would you like to dine?"

"Your quarters - or mine. Somewhere quiet, where we can have some privacy."

"Privacy and quiet do lend themselves to improved digestion."

Nyota giggled and slapped him playfully on the chest. "Like digestion was the only thing on my mind -" Spock cocked his head, raising an eyebrow as though confused by her response. Nyota, assuming he was teasing, said, "Okay, Commander, have it your way."

She took a few steps from him, stopped and, extending a hand behind her, invited him to take it so she could lead him where she wanted them to go. Then she suddenly remembered the package. "Oh, wait." She picked it up and handed it to him. "Scotty said the Denobulans brought this from Jagusch-McGillis. It's addressed to you."

Spock took it and turned it so he could read the packing slip. "It seems to be from a Crickian seamstress."

"You ordered something from her while we were shopping planetside."

"Indeed? That seems rather uncharacteristic of me; textiles have never been of interest... Wait." Spock looked at the floor as some memory fragments flickered across his frontal lobe like the flash of a strobe light, and then looked back up at Nyota. "Fascinating -"

"What is it, Spock?"

"I have the distinct impression this item was purchased with you in mind, although for what purpose, I do not recall." Spock handed the package back to her.

"What do you think it is?"

"I am not certain."

"Then we should open it and find out."

"That would seem a logical course of action," Spock said, and he walked past her, heading for the door. As she had done, he stopped after a few steps and extended a hand behind him, inviting her to take it. "Come with me, and we can open it together while we lunch."

Nyota smiled, the package pressed against her chest by her arm, and took his hand in hers. The hand-to-hand contact initiated the familiar light meld, and through it, she felt Spock's - Relief. Clarity. Confidence. A hint of ardor in the background... and a touch of regret... no, sadness, over his memory loss. He was shielding a good deal of himself from her, but she was grateful for even this abbreviated connection.

* * *

They stopped first at Dr. Surrey's quarters to look in on Pa'shu and her cubs. Dr. Surrey was still preoccupied with the notes he was typing into the PADD, and Nyota asked him, "Don't you ever take a break?"

"Sure," he said without looking at her, gesturing with the PADD toward a sandwich and a glass of juice on the table nearby. "Having lunch even as we speak -"

Nyota chuckled and shook her head as Spock squatted down next to the sehlats. Mother and babies were sound asleep, one cub draped across Pa'shu's haunches, the other lying on its back near her muzzle with all four legs splayed out around it. "When the cubs are more settled, I will set up a den for them in my quarters. Dr. Surrey will then be able to adjust the heat and illumination settings in his quarters back to levels more comfortable for him."

"I was kind of getting used to the heat -" Surrey said without looking up from his notes.

"What are they?" Nyota asked. "I mean, what gender?"

"This one," Spock pointed to the one draped across Pa'shu's hip, "is male, the other is female."

"Sarek said sehlats name themselves," Dr. Surrey interjected, still typing away. "But I don't want to call them _'hey you'_ for the next six months, so I figured you should name them. If nothing else, naming them will make it easier for the ship's vet to keep track of who's who in his records." He looked up from his work with a wry smile, "I was thinking of calling the little boy _G'by_."

"What a curious name, Doctor," Spock said, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," Nyota agreed. "I don't recognize the language; it's not a Vulcan name."

"Nope, simple Terran," Surrey replied. "G-B-Y." At the blank looks from his guests, he explained, "GBY for **G**od-**B**less-**Y**ou. Pa'shu's name sort of sounds like a sneeze and since she has a penchant for sternutation, I figured... Pa'shu-Achoo, God bless you-GBY, G'by."(5)

Nyota laughed heartily. "Oh, Spock, we have to use that for one of the names!"

"Very well," Spock agreed somewhat reluctantly. "May we have something a bit less... cryptic for the female's name?"

Surrey shrugged and smiled, interested to see what Spock would come up with. Nyota suggested Vulcan names like Petakov or Takov, and Swahili names like Mtoto and Kicheko, but none of them seemed to fit the comfortable, laid-back baby sehlat.(6)

"Ta'an," Spock said after a while, and the cub squeaked in her sleep at the sound of his voice.(7)

"That's pretty. What does it mean?" Dr. Surrey asked, and Nyota translated, "Gift; especially something precious handed down from one person to another."

"Ohhhh. Sarek had mentioned you might be giving the sehlats to your people as a gift, Mister Spock. The name seems more than appropriate then."

"Thank you, Doctor," Spock said, rising to his full height. Nyota, hugging him around the waist, reiterated, "G'by and Ta'an. Suits them."

"Yeah, cute," Dr. Surrey agreed. "Now, if you kids don't mind, I would like to get back to my sandwich and my notes..."

With an apology for the intrusion, they left, going to Spock's quarters, where Nyota unwrapped the package from the Crickian while Spock ordered steamed vegetables and rice noodles for them from the small, personal in-wall replicator.

The Crickian's package contained two long panels embroidered with delicate, ornate Vulcan calligraphy. Nyota laid them on the floor, side-by-side, and stood up so she could see them in total and read the script. Spock handed her a bowl along with a longfork, and then looking over the panels, stooped to rearranged their order. "I believe they go this way," he said. He picked up his own lunch bowl and stepped back next to Nyota.

She read the first panel aloud, "E'rroi kae t'nash-veh, eh ki'vukut t'nash-veh kup du," then translated it, her voice catching with emotion, "Attract the mind of mine, and have the body of mine you can."

The second panel read: Talal katra t'nash-veh, eh ek'wak t'du nash-veh nam-tor_. _"Find the living soul of mine, and forever yours I am."(8)

Bowl in hand, Nyota leaned into Spock and let her head rest against his shoulder. Tears stood in her eyes. "Oh my God, they are beautiful, Spock," her voice trembled. "They are so beautiful."

Spock kissed her softly on the forehead. "Vah nam-tor tu, k'diwa."(9) Although his sentiment was genuine, the kiss was somewhat perfunctory, but Nyota didn't seem to notice. Spock was silently grateful that their hands were otherwise occupied; had they been touch-linked, Nyota would have felt, to some degree, the deep confusion he was currently experiencing.

The purchase of the gift, an intimate one suited for a bondmate, had apparently been rather impulsive; and he didn't believe he was prone to emotional impulses. There was more lost to the shariv t'kae than just bits of his memory, he now understood. As he looked at the gift, he realized he was missing an entire train of emotional incidents and connections that had lead him to make such a purchase. Spock watched as Nyota knelt by the panels, stroking the embroidery and swiping away tears so they wouldn't fall onto and mar the fabric. She was obviously far ahead of him, now, in her emotional connection to him. The shariv t'kae had set him back almost a year, and he was going to have to catch up to her, or tell her to slow down and step back to meet him where he was. But how could he approach such a dialog with her without upsetting her? Perhaps Dr. Surrey would have some insight into such a phenomenon and assist him with it.

So pleased with the present and so full of feelings for him that she was unaware of his consternation, Nyota smiled at Spock as she rose to her feet. She wanted to embrace him, enfold him, have him, but he held his bowl high enough now to dip his longfork into it, and twirl the noodles around inside. She didn't know how to take that.

He had given her an intensely passionate gift - and yet was now focused on eating. His actions seemed incongruous. Dr. Surrey had warned her Spock's desire might run hot and cold while he dealt with what had happened to him, but, she had assumed that if the shariv t'kae had burned out the memories from that period, he would no longer have any lingering... discomforts; that he wouldn't have anything to deal with or repress anymore.

Maybe things were still jumbled in his head, she thought, or maybe he needed time to reorient himself within his mind; to figure out which feelings were real and which ones were echoes and reflections. Or maybe she was simply reading too much into his actions; maybe he was just hungry. She knew he hadn't really eaten breakfast.

"What are you thinking of, Spock?"

"Many things... including you."

* * *

In the Shuttle Bay, Sarek, Gilgreni and the violet-eyed Serran stood outside the open orifice in the _Haulat's _side, which Sa'aat blocked with his body. He stepped aside only briefly when Sionak arrived, so the guard could step past him and enter the ship.

Watching Sionak vanish up the turbolift, Serran indicated himself and Gilgreni, and said, "Allow us to accompany you, osu."

"No. It is imperative the number of Fonn Vuhlkansu delegates not be diminished. Should anything happen to you, we would not have time to replace you before the Transitional Council convenes. It is best if you remain here; protect the Ambassador."

"What do you intend to accomplish with this voyage?" Sarek asked.

"To ensure our security measures are in place before your arrival on New Vulcan, and to determine the whereabouts and status of T'Pau."

"I will remind you, then, there has been no order sanctioning her destruction."

"Of that, I am aware."

"I would not wish you to take the law into your own hands."

"The law is often open to interpretation, Ambassador," Sa'aat reminded him.

"You understand my meaning, Sa'aat. I want no murders, no torture. Ri klau au ik klau tu. Nufau au sochya - yi dungi ma tu sochya."

Sa'aat looked down momentarily as a sign of reverence for an elder, but when he looked up again there was nothing but determination in his face. "Tra'nam-tor wehk fau-yut na'sochya, elyutau-fam ek t'au fa'rom istaya. Dungi-nafau fa'ra nufau nash'veh."(10)

"Then there is little else I can say to you except," Sarek raised his right hand in the traditional split-fingered salute, "live long and prosper."

Sa'aat returned the gesture saying, "Peace and long life." He stepped into the _Haulat_ and the orifice shut, leaving no mark on the ship's skin to indicate an opening had ever been there. Within minutes, the _Haulat_ was on its way to New Vulcan, its cloak engaged before it left the _Enterprise's_ perimeter.

* * *

(1) **Tel-ketelau:** the Vulcan word for "_bondmate_"; someone with whom another is mated (mind and body) for life; alternately the word "_telsu_" (one who is bonded) is also used.

(2) **Hafau muhl, Spahk-kam.** Translated from the Vulcan means, "Keep well, Spock." And **Nakarat kup-terkadau dungi nash-veh, k'diwa**, translates as "I will endeavor to comply, beloved."

(3) L**esh'riq position:** "lesh'riq" is the Vulcan word for the meditative posture in which the participant kneels on the floor with the feet tucked in under the buttocks and the instep of the foot against the floor.

(4) **Vasa previa:** according to the eMedicine site "vasa previa occurs when the fetal vessels in the membrane are situated in front of the presenting part of the fetus". At birth, the vessels in the umbilical cord rupture and the fetus can bleed out (exsanguinate) within minutes. It's relatively rare in Humans, occurring in about one in about every three-thousand births, but is very often fatal to the fetus if it's not properly diagnosed prior to delivery.

(5) **G'by:** this name was actually suggested by FanFiction reader **Botsey**, and I thought its origin was so cute, I HAD to use the name for one of the cubs!

(6) **Suggested names for sehlat cubs:** _Petakov_ is the Vulcan word for "cute" and _Takov_ is the Vulcan word for "pretty"; in Swahili _Mtoto_ means "child" and _Kicheko_ means "laughter".

(7) **Ta'an:** this name, which means "gift" in Vulcan, was suggested by FanFiction reader **mcsgirl**!

(8)**E'rroi kae t'nash-veh, eh ki'vukut t'nash-veh kup du. Talal katra t'nash-veh, eh ek'wak t'du nash-veh nam-tor.** This is Vulcan version of the anonymous Terran poem that reads, "Seduce my mind and you can have my body; find my soul and I'm yours forever."

(9)**Vah nam-tor tu, k'diwa.** Translated from the Vulcan this means, "As are you, beloved."

(10) **Ri klau au ik klau tu. Nufau au sochya - yi dungi ma tu sochya**. Sarek is quoting Surak here. Translated from the Vulcan it means: _"Do no harm to those who harm you. Offer them peace, then you will have peace." _Sa'aat answers him with, **Tra'nam-tor wehk fau-yut na'sochya, elyutau-fam ek t'au fa'rom istaya. Dungi-nafau fa'ra nufau nash'veh**, which translated from the Vulcan means, _"There are many avenues to peace, not all of them paved in good wishes. I will offer in kind what I am offered."_


	18. Chapter 18

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

Thank you, as always, to my great beta Farstrider, and to my former beta Josie who is still giving me advice on the side!

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:**

Although Nyota's expressions, words and touch transmitted her profound desire for him, she was considerate enough, in the wake of his confusion and disconnection after the Katau Fa'ark, not to press for intimate attention or overt displays of affection. She was content to dine with him, gazing at him and the Crickian panels lovingly, while he attempted to bridge the obvious gaps in his memory with conversation that skimmed the surface of the deep pond of their relationship like a polished stone.

She described their shore leave on Jagusch-McGillis: how he had fought for the deliverance and security of Pa'shu, his discovery of the bolt of Vulcan fabric - which was sitting on the floor of his closet - and his purchase of the Crickian panels. The only evidence of their day of shore leave that resonated at all with him was the tiny compass. When Nyota reached inside her uniform and extracted it for him to see, he seemed to recognize it immediately. He put the pad of his index finger against its bezel and recalled himself saying, "Take care not to lose it," when he presented it to her... although the rest of the memories surrounding the incident were gone. It was as though that moment had crystallized in his mind and cemented itself there, as did other memories of his interactions with her, but the conversations and actions that connected those moments together were no longer accessible to him; like points of starlight hung in the blackness of space. This point was a memory, that point was a memory, but everything around them was an empty, hollow vacuum.

Although he was grateful she shared her recollections with him, they left him more disoriented, as though the Spock from her story was from a different life, a different time-line, a different reality.

He vividly remembered the seamless synchronization of their intellects and spiritual essences, and the radiant, healing coolness of her presence within his mind from the night before, and found it difficult to reconcile with his current sense of detachment from her. A part of him wanted to draw her close, join with her and share everything he was, while another part held her at bay, fearing he would somehow harm her, or she would harm him, if he drew too close. The uncertainty was distracting and debilitating. He had never experienced anything like this, and had no idea how to combat it, or even define it. He attempted several times to broach the subject, but stopped before the words escaped him. A man of exactitude, he didn't know how to say what he wanted to say, and so he said nothing at all.

When they finished eating, Nyota disposed of their bowls and utensils in the in-wall replicator. She stood at the head of the Crickian panels, with Spock standing across from her at their foot, and gave him a long appraising look. "Still a little out of sorts after the Katau Fa'ark?" she asked him gently.

"Yes," he admitted wearily, with perhaps a little dread.

"You still have an hour or so before you go to see Dr. Surrey. I could give you a massage to help you unwind."

Spock tilted his head and gave her his version of a conspiratorial smile from under his upswept eyebrows. "Although my memory may be somewhat suspect, k'diwa, I do seem to recall that the majority of your massages did not leave me in a state of relaxation. Quite the contrary, they served to arouse me."

Nyota grinned. "Yes, well... Eventually, you fell asleep." She stepped around the panels and joined him, slipping her arm around his waist, letting the heat from his body permeate hers. Looking into his eyes, she suggested softly, "Why don't you try to meditate for a while then?"

He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before answering, "Perhaps I will."

"Good." Nyota rubbed his back gently and gave him a little reassuring hug. "If you need me, I'll be on the bridge for the rest of my shift. I'm off at seventeen-hundred, and after that I'll be in my quarters." She was leaving it up to him whether he would join her that evening or not. Stooping low, she carefully folded and gathered up the panels and hugged them against her chest with both arms.

Spock escorted her to the door, and let her smile against his cheek and press a light kiss to his lips before she left. After she was gone, he stood where he was for several seconds, unsure of what he wanted to do next. In his current state of detachment and uncertainty, meditation was called for, but he had been deliberately noncommittal to Nyota about it. He had attempted to meditate in the Medical Bay, but had been unable to reach the level of calm necessary to achieve s'thaupi.(1) Thoughts and questions tugged at his injured brain, demanding answers he couldn't give. He felt a sense of urgency, as though he couldn't do or think about anything else until his mind was more settled. He knew he needed to meditate, but he couldn't: it was a circular and self-defeating thought pattern.

There was only one answer to the dilemma. If his confusion and memory loss were due to the shariv t'kae, then he needed to ascertain, as quickly as possible, what had prompted it. Once he knew what incited the storm, he could better address it and its aftermath.

Spock went to his workstation and activated the computer. He bypassed the screen displaying the messages left for him, and began searching for any mention of him in the ship's records. Firewalls and labyrinthine encryptions protected access to much of the material, especially the captain's logs and the medical database, but Spock's rank provided him with override codes lesser officers on the ship were denied. And he was careful to look only into records which pertained directly to him, which, by Starfleet regulation, he was permitted to do - within specific parameters. There were, for example, portions of his medical chart not readily viewable to him; Dr. Surrey's detailed psychiatric notes on his case, for instance. He had more than enough technical skill to violate the seal on those records if he wanted to, and then cover up his entry so no one would be the wiser, but - he paused, weighing the legal, ethical, professional, and personal consequences of such a breach. Deciding to leave the seal unbroken on those entries, Spock plunged through the other data collected on him. His personal journals had mentioned meetings held in Medical Conference Room One by Dr. McCoy, Dr. Surrey and others regarding his status, so he focused his preliminary search for any mention of those meetings.

* * *

The Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation met with Sarek in the largest of the personal quarters provided for them; S'Risha, Enteria, and T'Stala, who wore their MAGGIe's on their swollen bellies, attended the meeting despite McCoy's objections. Their presence was not vital; the charter the group planned to present at the Transitional Council meeting had already been hammered out, and this meeting was a mere formality intended to finalize the document with their biological signatures before its publication. Regardless, the pregnant women attended to show their support and determination to assist the group with its goals.

The room was cramped, but no one complained or openly exhibited discomfort. When S'Risha and the other pregnant women entered, her bondmate T'Kela immediately offered her chair to her, while two of the males vacated their seats for T'Stala and Enteria. This wasn't out of a sense of antiquated or perfunctory chivalry; Vulcan women were revered as the progenitors of their race. In the face of extinction, pregnant females represented the best hope for their species. Those in the room were honored by their presence.

The only one missing from the entourage was Tasmeen. She had been asked to relocate Pa'shu and her cubs from Dr. Surrey's private suite, to Spock's suit, and had applied herself to her task with diligence and enthusiasm, proving herself a well-organized, heedful, and resourceful Vulcan child.

Once S'Risha was settled, and T'Kela sat on the floor near her feet, T'Kela asked quietly, "Are you comfortable, ashalik?"(2)

"The device functions as designed," S'Risha answered, "but with it comes the altogether odd sensation of... disengagement. It feels similar to being half in and half out of water; part of me is buoyant, part is not, and when I move, I have to wait for the buoyant part to catch up with the weighted part."

"But there is no pain or other discomfort?"

"No. None."

"If we may begin," Sarek said to general nods of assent as he stepped into the middle of the room. "The first portion of our charter to the Transitional Council speaks to the reinstatement of citizenship for the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation. Are we in agreement that in order for us to progress as an active and integral part of the New Vulcan legislature, we must set aside our previous renunciations and request our citizenship be fully reestablished?"

"As long as there are no other stipulations or qualifications associated with the reinstatement," Gilgreni said from behind T'Stala's chair.

"_'Unqualified reinstatement of full citizenship'_ would be the preferred terminology, then?" Sarek suggested, and again, everyone was in agreement with him. He then went through the rest of the delegation's expectations, goals and plans, making subtle but significant changes to the verbiage and the order of the items listed where needed.

Sarek saved the altered version into a PADD and passed it around the room for the delegates' approval and final signature. As each member finished reading this final draft, they indicated approval of it by recording their fingerprints and bio-signatures on the PADD's screen.

As Sarek slipped the PADD into a tooled faux-leather courier pouch, he said, "Thank you, delegates, for your counsel, encouragement, and cooperation with this project. Let us hope our efforts will be rewarded: that the Fonn Vuhlkansu petition for inclusion will be granted, that the reproductive rights of the male population of New Vulcan will be reinstated, and the former Ministers of the Transitional Council who have not yet resigned will be removed from office."

Silent nods once more answered him.

* * *

Aboard the _Haulat_, Sa'aat cocked his head with curiosity when a private transmission came through the comm-panel on his bridge from the _Enterprise_. He activated the two-way communications view screen and was even more curious to see Spock's face appear.

"Spahk-kam. Nam-tor t'gol'nev lau nash-veh hah?" he asked.

Spock glanced away for a moment, as though undecided, then returned his gaze to the view screen, looking determined. "Dva-tor ni nash-veh hah, osu. Stariben k'ish-veh pa Uzh T'Kashi lau nash-veh hah?"

"U'istau ish-veh."(3)

* * *

Spock rang the door chime to his father's quarters even though he was aware Sarek was not there. He had checked his father's status earlier and knew Sarek was meeting with the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegates. Nevertheless, Spock felt he should exhibit common courtesies before entering the room, as his mother's katra resided there. When the door slipped open with a quiet _shwish_, he found the room unlit and comfortably warm by Vulcan standards.

Careful not to disturb anything, Spock searched the room with his eyes until he located the crystal vre'katra. It was perched on a dresser and surrounded by an incense burner, a meditation lamp, several pieces of fresh fruit and a tiny wreath of desert flowers, undoubtedly a gift brought to Sarek by Tasmeen from the Nevada colony. Spock recognized the altar cloth under the vre'katra as one of his mother's own scarves.

"Ko-mehk," Spock whispered to the stylized face on the urn. (4)

* * *

"Does any of this seem familiar to you, Mister Spock?" Dr. Surrey asked when Spock arrived in his office later that afternoon. The Vulcan had donned polished boots and his Science Blues, and had meticulously groomed himself since Dr. Surrey had last seen him. _He's presenting himself as orderly and ready for duty_, the doctor understood.

Spock picked a throw pillow up off the floor, smoothed its surface, and placed it on the couch. "The disarray strikes a chord of recollection, but otherwise, no."

"Well, take a few minutes to orient yourself and get comfortable. We have a couple more cursory tests to finish and then we can talk if you want to."

"I would like to speak to you, Doctor, thank you," Spock said with a single bob of his head. He stepped further into the room and started to circumnavigate its cluttered space.

"Really?" Surrey did not bother hiding his pleasant astonishment. "Well, that's good to hear, Mister Spock."

On one of the shelving units, amid a jumble of miniature signage - Stop, Go Left, Hazardous Materials - was a larger one that caught Spock's eye.

**A person who has not passed through the inferno of their passions  
has never overcome them****.** (5)

He lifted it, read it at a glance and showed it to Surrey, saying, "This sounds like a Vulcan sentiment."

Surrey squinted to read it more clearly and replied, "It's actually Jung."

Spock's mouth pulled downward a fraction as his eyebrows rose briefly, expressing he was both intrigued and impressed by the information. He set the sign back and proceeded around the room, before coming to a standstill beside the shelves filled with miniature people. The Vulcan figures were still in a straight line across the front of their shelf. "Curious," he said.

"What's curious?"

"The males outnumber the females in this display."

"And that's important because...?"

"It is inaccurate."

"You set them up like that during a previous session," Dr. Surrey told him as he took a seat in the tartan plaid chair. "I interpreted the action as your attempt to make order out of chaos..."

"An interesting observation. However, it might also indicate a condition in which the masculine component of the psyche was attempting to be the most dominant."

"Yes, that's possible. Is that how you interpret it now?"

"No. It simply strikes me as imprecise."

"Imprecise in what way?"

"In current Vulcan society, females outnumber males nearly three-to-one."

"And why is the accuracy of that ratio important?"

Spock arched an eyebrow. "Accuracy in all things is important, Doctor. The fact I was blatantly inaccurate with this presentation seems to speak to a lack of precision and clarity on my part."

"Well, you weren't quite yourself."

"Evidently." Spock turned, hands clasped loosely behind his back, presenting his full chest to Surrey, raising his chin. "I am myself now, however."

_He's showing me how vital he is, while at the same time daring me to disagree with him. _Dr. Surrey smiled. Spock was back to his sharp-witted, challenging self it seemed. "Um... I think that's for me to decide, Mister Spock," Surrey answered.

"Of course, Doctor," Spock said, turning away. _The capitulation wasn't easy for him,_ Surrey inferred. _He accepts the fact I have the power to decide whether he's fit for duty or not, but he doesn't like it._ "You have not yet formulated any opinion about my case?" Spock ventured.

_He's testing, seeking. He wants a hint to my diagnosis without actually asking for it. _"No, I haven't made a decision one way or the other yet."

"But you are inclined toward a decision."

_Another test._ "I let the evaluations speak for themselves and try not to taint the data with my personal feelings. I don't want to give someone a clean bill of health just because I like them. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do," Spock said flatly.

"Shall we continue with the tests, then?"

"Very well."

* * *

On the _Haulat_, Sionak watched Sa'aat engage the ship's long-range scanners and run several preliminary sweeps of New Vulcan's surface. They were still too far for the scans to be of much benefit, but the action was normal for Sa'aat; he typically ordered advance intelligence, and made as many precursory examinations as possible before arriving at a destination, in order to secure his safety and avoid surprises. What struck Sionak as odd, however, was the fact that, although Sa'aat had never been a verbose man, he had been far quieter since leaving the _Enterprise_ than Sionak had ever seen him. The silence was palpable. Furthermore, Sionak felt waves of anger and grief radiating from his friend. Even the _Haulat_ felt it; under its cloak, the emotions shimmered like fine red static along the ship's outer skin.

Sionak understood the impetus for Sa'aat's anger. Sa'aat's great affection for Sarek's hybrid son was no secret; he saw no reason to hide the fact: his feelings were genuine and honorable. Sa'aat had often described Spock as his _eku-svitan t'shaukaush_. (6) So when former Ministers Semuk and T'Pau used the Ek'tevan Prerogative as a ruse to get Spock under their control, and then attacked and violated him, it was logical that Sa'aat had responded to the defilement of his beloved with controlled fury. Sa'aat presented himself as a dispassionate man who was always composed; however, the fact that, after killing Semuk as sanctioned by the Begara Seven Judiciary, he had mutilated the body and delivered Semuk's severed and exsanguinated organ to T'Pau as a threat and a warning, demonstrated the depth of his rage.

Sionak and Sa'aat now traveled back to New Vulcan to confront T'Pau, the second of Spock's rapists, and the closer they got to the planet, the redder and more vivid the static on the _Haulat's_ hide burned. Although Sionak believed Sa'aat would comport himself with dignity and control when they found the woman, he also believed that if T'Pau gave Sa'aat even the slightest reason to kill her, he would, regardless of whether he had the legal authority to do so; and her death would not be a pretty or peaceful one.

So, although Sa'aat's anger was understandable – if slightly distasteful - Sionak could not fathom his current grief. Sa'aat had rescued Spock from the effects of the shariv t'kae; why then, after emerging from Spock's mind, did he seem so cheerless and defeated, as if he had lost something? Why was he so reserved and incommunicative?

Sa'aat, without turning in his chair or facing Sionak, said, "Please remain focused on the journey and the tasks at hand."

Sionak bowed his head, embarrassed. He should have minded his own business - and known better than to muse in the close vicinity of such an accomplished Adept. "Yes, osu. Forgive my - distraction."

"We will arrive at New Vulcan in five hours, thirty-three minutes. Make sure the desert gear is ready for us before that time."

"Yes, osu."

As Sionak rose from his seat to check the gear on the lower deck, Sa'aat turned in his chair and said, "Sionak - " At the mouth of the turbolift, the guard turned to face him, and Sa'aat continued in a more moderated tone, "Do not concern yourself. Things are as they should be."

"Yes, osu."

* * *

"That's the last of the evaluations, Mister Spock," Dr. Surrey said, collecting the diagnostic PADD from him. He entered a code into the unit to lock in the data and secure confidentiality, and then set the PADD aside. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Spock said nothing as he rose from the blue chair to stretch his legs and walk around the room again. Surrey noted he bypassed the display where the Grimhilde figure was dominant, and came to a stop near a display of desert-dwelling animals. _First he aligned himself with the Vulcan people, now he's aligning himself with the desert, the landscape of his birth. He's trying to figure out if he still 'fits' among them. _

Reaching among the figures, Spock drew out a small toy camel wearing a tufted halter and an ornate Tuareg fork-horn saddle (7). He studied the creature for several seconds, then carefully set it back and asked, "May we now speak, Doctor?"

"That's what I encourage most," Dr. Surrey said with a smile.

"Yes," said Spock reflectively, turning away, not showing the doctor his back, but instead shifting his body as if he were shielding his heart. _He's feeling vulnerable again, but he's not backing down or getting entirely defensive,_ Surrey thought. "In an attempt to compensate for my current mental deficiencies, I have, as you are aware, examined my personal journals," Spock began.

"Yes, you mentioned that to me this morning."

"I had also expressed a desire to understand what may have provoked my shariv t'kae."

"Yes, I remember that, too."

"In my pursuit of answers, I accessed other data gathered over the past several months in which references to me were made."

"Oh -?" Surrey didn't like the sound of that. Considering how intelligent, curious and capable Spock was, he had expected the Vulcan to eventually do a detailed records search on himself in order to fill the holes in his memory. However, Surrey hadn't anticipated Spock would initiate the search immediately, or that he would finish it so quickly. He had underestimated the strength of Spock's desire for answers and closure, and he mentally kicked himself for his mistake.

"Taking the composite data into consideration, I have come to a conclusion about what I believe sparked the shariv t'kae. With your permission, I would like to share my observations and conclusions with you."

"I would very much like to hear that, Mister Spock. Thank you."

Spock took a position behind the blue chair, facing the doctor. He placed his hands on either side of the back of the chair, his grip relaxed. _He's protecting his vital organs from me - which means he's still feeling vulnerable – but he's showing me his hands to prove he's non-combative, that he's being open and forthright, _was Surrey's interpretation of this new posture.

Spock averted his eyes for a moment as he collected his thoughts, and then began, choosing his words carefully. "Among the stressors, to which I have been subjected over the past year or more, were the loss of my homeworld and my physiological connection to it."

"Yes."

"There is also an odd sense of blameworthiness; I had lived through the holocaust while billions of other Vulcans died."

"You might be experiencing what we Humans call_ 'survivor's guilt,'_ Mister Spock, and it's not an uncommon occurrence. I'd daresay that there are other Vulcans who feel the same way you do."

"Indeed they do, Doctor," Spock admitted. "It permeates the k'war'ma'khon; coiling through us like a snake. I feel my peoples' collected pain, here -" he pointed to the center of his forehead, "- and here," he pointed to his solar plexus, the core of his body. "This, along with being physically torn away from our home planet, left us, as a people, somewhat raw and... drifting. Like sea grass rent from its roots and pulled by rip tides into a churning sea. I understand I should have addressed these sensations earlier, but everything else seemed to preoccupy me at the time, my Starfleet duties, my relationship with Lieutenant Uhura, my studies, my hobbies. Even when I attempted to meditate on the subject, I found myself distracted and unable to center myself."

"We call that _'denial'_ or _'avoidance'_, and it's not uncommon. When you're faced with a drastic trauma, your brain does everything it can to try to normalize your existence - it's a coping mechanism; it keeps you from going nuts - and in the process, sometimes the routines of daily life can consume you, pulling you outside yourself, or covering up what you really feel and need to confront. When some of the trauma wears off and you're able to focus inward again, you can address the effects of the events, and start to deal with them... just like you're doing now."

Spock nodded slowly, and slipped to the front of the chair, where he sat on the edge of the cushion, his back straight, his hands folded loosely, resting against his knees. "Yes, that was my conclusion, as well, Doctor. I now understand I need to address what has happened to me: the loss of my home, the pain of my people... being forced to comply with the Ek'tevan Prerogative, the relinquishing of my Vulcan citizenship, the probability I am a father-to-be..."

"Yes."

"...And the fact that while on New Vulcan, I killed one of the plak-tau women, and was sexually assaulted by Semuk and my kinswoman, T'Pau."

Although his mouth opened, Surrey didn't ask how Spock had found the information; it was irrelevant at this juncture. He was more concerned about Spock's reaction to the discovery. He searched Spock's face for some indication of emotional upset, but the Vulcan seemed dispassionate and composed. There was no hint of fear or trauma, no disgust, no rage, no confusion, no disgrace. Vulcans were skilled in disguising those things, of course, but Surrey would have felt better if Spock had at least blinked, or squirmed or winced or... did something other than sit there with his face a perfect mask of poise and control. "That's pretty traumatic stuff, Mister Spock. It would push anybody over the edge."

"Yes, but, as distressing as those facts may have been, Doctor, there was one greater factor which ultimately lead to my shariv t'kae."

"Oh, really? What was that?"

"My mother's katra was inside of me during all of those events."

Surrey leaned forward in his chair as realization struck him. "Oh, good God."

"She experienced what I experienced. She saw me subjugated, humiliated, beaten, raped, spat upon, used; she was a witness to the killing of T'Cloo; experienced my pain and exhaustion, my nightmares and hallucinations… All of it. During that last meeting, when faced with the truth of what had happened to me on New Vulcan, I felt her rise up inside of me with all of her maternal outrage and fathomless grief. Upon that moment -" Spock's composure broke for a moment. His eyes went wet with tears and his lips trembled. Then he took in several deep breaths, blinked away the tears, and raised his chin, composed again. "Upon that moment, when I realized she was there, I wanted nothing more but to burn away all of the thoughts, and images, and feelings; to protect her from the hideousness of them, to purge them so she would not be subjected to them anymore, and so I set off the shariv t'kae myself. I consciously willed it to happen. It was my own doing." Spock looked at his folded hands and went silent. His face was emotionless, but the knuckles on his hands went white as he gripped them together.

"A suicide attempt?" Dr. Surrey asked. Any inference to attempted suicide on his Starfleet record would preclude Spock from ever being promoted to a captaincy; the Federation didn't allow anyone with a history of self-destructive ideation to captain any ship in the Fleet.

"No, Doctor. I was not attempting to destroy myself. My death would have resulted in the loss of my mother's katra. I wanted only to abolish the hideous images and memories."

Dr. Surrey cleared his throat and rubbed a finger under his nose to remove any errant mucus that might have hinted at his own emotionalism at that moment, and uttered, "I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like for you, Mister Spock. But if you did set off your sahriv t'kae, as you stated, for the reasons you stated, then I don't believe there was anything premeditated or planned about it. I don't believe you were trying to kill yourself. It was a sudden reactive response to a perceived danger: you were a son protecting his mother... So, unless something else comes up to disprove my conclusion, I won't be listing what you did, in my reports, as a self-destructive act. I'll list it for what it was: a shariv t'kae suffered by a Vulcan under extremely traumatic circumstances."

A minor loosening in the shoulders and hands showed that Spock was relieved.

"But," Surrey continued, and Spock looked up, meeting his eyes, "considering you are now able to articulate your recognition of several dominant stressors impacting your life and mental processes, I believe we need to seriously discuss a detailed and aggressive plan for immediate and on-going therapy."

Spock nodded. "It may be somewhat difficult for me to participate in therapy when I have little independent recollection of the traumatic events to which I was subjected; however, I very much agree therapeutic intervention at this juncture is both warranted and necessary. I offer you my full cooperation, Doctor. How would you like to proceed?"

* * *

(1) **S'thaupi:** the Vulcan word for the "beyond state" required for any healing meditation.

(2) **Ashalik**: The Vulcan word for "darling", as in "my darling wife/husband."

(3) **This conversation**, as translated from the Vulcan goes as follows: **Sa'aat:** Spahk-kam. Nam-tor t'gol'nev lau nash-veh hah? _(Spock. May I be of assistance?) _**Spock:** Dva-tor ni nash-veh hah, osu. Stariben k'ish-veh pa Uzh T'Kashi lau nash-veh hah? _(I believe so, yes, honored one. May I speak with you about New Vulcan?) _**Sa'aat:** U'istau ish-veh. _(As you wish.)_

(4) **Ko-mehk: **the Vulcan word for "Mother."

(5) _A person who has not passed through the inferno of their passions has never overcome them._ - Carl Gustav Jung

(6) **Eku-svitan t'shaukaush:** translated from the Vulcan this mean "locus of passion", the central point from which love, joy, hatred, and anger emanates, the focus of one's emotional attention.

(7) **Tuareg Saddle:** According to CamelPhotos(dot)com : _"...Forked horn Tuareg Camel Saddles are made by lashing wood together with rawhide and covering it with colored leather, then adorning them with silver, copper and brass ornaments. Most were made in Agadez, Niger, by blacksmiths. Much Tuareg art is in the form of jewelry, leather and metal saddle decorations, and finely crafted swords."_


	19. Chapter 19

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is with thanks to my betas FarStrider and Josie. As always, when you see a number, like (8), amid the text it refers to an endnote that will give you translations and more information.

* * *

**CHAPTER NINETEEN:**

"I'm releasing Spock for duty with the caveat he attends daily sessions with me for at least three weeks, and then proceeds with the therapeutic process at a less rigid pace after that," Dr. Surrey announced to Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy the next morning in his office. He had expected them to be pleased with the news, and was taken aback when McCoy grinned, but Kirk frowned and looked down at the floor.

"That's great news, isn't it, Jim?" McCoy clapped Kirk's shoulder before the captain sat in the tartan plaid chair. McCoy looked to Surrey. "The tests checked out okay? He passed everything?"

"Therapeutic tests aren't set up for pass-fail grades, but, yes... The Bleeker Memory Test, the Federation Verbal Learning Test, the Bendii Syndrome Analysis Evaluation, the Sillan-T'Perka Neuropsychological Series, the Vulcan Multiphasic Personality Register, the Starfleet Global Assessment of Functioning test, the Somatoform Disorders Evaluation, the Psychotronic Stability Examination(1)... Spock got through each of them handily. We have a lot of work to do, sure, but at this point, his prognosis is good. Spock is a lot more stable than I thought he'd be, considering everything he's been through. He's either one tough cookie, or whatever Sa'aat did helped him more than we'll ever understand."

"Spock just went through brain-melting hell and had people walking around inside his skull," Kirk said grimly. "Are you sure he's ready to go back to work? His memory is still pretty twitchy, isn't it?"

"Whatever he's lost hasn't affected his long-term memory; he can function perfectly well as the ship's First Officer. And he's working hard to fill in the stuff he's missing on the short-term side."

"I told you before, Jim," McCoy added. "He knows how all the equipment works; he knows who all the crewmembers are and what they're supposed to do; and he remembers all the regulations - probably better than you do. He'll do fine."

The captain wasn't convinced. "What about his detachment? It's like he doesn't feel anything," he shot a glance at McCoy. "I know Spock isn't the real expressive type, but…" he looked back to Surrey, "he just seems so different, you know?"

"Well, there are a couple factors figuring into that," Surrey said. He shoved some PADDs aside, and sat on the edge of his desk. "It's not unusual for patients who have been through severe emotional trauma to withdraw from others, even their closest loved ones, while they try to sort out what's happened to them and how to deal with it; it's especially true of patients with PTSD and RTS (2). The detachment and withdrawal you sense in Spock is most likely associated with that.

"In Spock's case, you also have to take into account he's been walking around with his mother's katra inside of him since the destruction of Vulcan. While I don't fully understand how the whole katra thing works, I believe his mother's spirit had a softening effect on Spock; making him more congenial, more approachable, more accepting of his emotions and more openly expressive. Now that she's gone, Spock has returned to his normal self. It's not that he doesn't care about those he cared about before; it just means he's back to being more Vulcan in his expression. I also believe he's denying and compartmentalizing to some degree. This isn't uncommon, given that he knows about what happened to him on New Vulcan."

"Crap," Kirk snorted. "How did he accomplish that so fast? We didn't have time to talk to him. He's been out of the Klaatu Fart thing for less than a day!"

"He is a very determined Vulcan."

"But how did he manage it?"

Dr. McCoy put his hands up when Kirk's questioning look grazed him. "Don't look at me," he said.

"Through an ingenious mixture of accessing the ship's logs, his personal medical charts and journals, and talking to people," Surrey answered.

"What people? He didn't talk to me."

"Well, Sa'aat, for one..."

"Sa'aat?" Kirk flashed McCoy a worried look. "Bones, you don't think Sa'aat told him about the vip nei, do you?"

"I wouldn't put it past him."

Dr. Surrey put up a calming hand, "At ease, gentlemen. Let's not get down on Sa'aat. He might not be the most candid person we know, and he might have the bedside manner of a Cardassian vole, but Spock turns to him again and again when he wants a straight answer to a question. Spock trusts him to be honest even when that honesty is brutal. While it may be upsetting that he would go to Sa'aat for the truth before either of you, as my daddy used to say, put on your big girl panties and get over it."

"Hey!" McCoy snapped.

"That sounded close to insubordination to me," the captain warned.

Surrey crossed his arms and gave Kirk a reproving look. "Excuse me? Jim 'Kobayashi Maru' Kirk is complaining to me about 'insubordination'. Didn't you invent that?"

Kirk shrugged and gave Surrey a begrudging nod of assent. "Yeah... okay."

Surrey's posture softened a bit. "Captain, Spock took the initiative to pursue the causes of his mental health issues and brought the information he'd found and his conclusions to me, his psychiatrist. From a therapist's point of view, that's fantastic. We live for patients who are this proactive in their therapeutic process. So, whatever Sa'aat told him - or didn't tell him - he did Spock some good; and regardless of how you feel about him, Sa'aat is obviously a respected touch-point for Spock, and you just have to accept that."

"Okay, okay." Kirk paused, then remembered, "You said something about Spock denying and compartmentalizing?"

"They're normal coping mechanisms for someone in Spock's situation," Surrey answered. "It's not unusual for battered individuals to go through a period where they refuse to believe or acknowledge they've been brutalized, denying the battery and everything associated with it. Spock knows he was attacked, but emotionally, he can't deal with it at the moment, and so he's stuffing down his reactions, while gathering as much factual data as he can to try to make sense of what happened to him. That, along with Vulcans' normal capacity for compartmentalizing and repressing their reactions, is leaving Spock somewhat at odds with, and disconnected from, himself; which, in turn, leaves you feeling disconnected from him."

Captain Kirk was silent for a few minutes before venturing a hopeful, "So Spock really is... normal again?"

"Normal is a relative term, Captain; but, yes. I believe he'll do fine. Spock recognizes his need for therapeutic intervention and has already specified a couple of crucial issues he'd like to tackle first. I'm feeling positive about the whole thing - and you should, too."

"How do I help him?"

"Well, one stressor that appeared in some evaluations was connected to Spock's proclivity to equate his value as an individual with his job performance. Since he hasn't been allowed to do his job for the past week, his sense of self-worth has taken a bit of a beating. Getting him back on the duty roster as soon as possible will alleviate that particular stressor."

"Okay." The captain looked to Dr. McCoy, "I take it you're in agreement, Bones?"

"Absolutely. Anything that gets that sulking Vulcan out of his head and back into action is fine by me. And if it will stop you from moping too, that's just gravy."(3)

"I haven't been moping." McCoy rolled his eyes at him, and Kirk admitted, "Fine, okay, maybe a little…"

"Another physical exam would also be a good idea," Surrey suggested. "I know you're swamped with the New Vulcan mission, Doctor McCoy, and I'm not saying Spock needs a physical this minute, but it'll help us to see if there have been any physiological changes in him since the removal of his mother's katra."

"I can squeeze it into my schedule before we reach New Vulcan."

"Okay," Kirk repeated. "I agree to allow Spock to return to duty."

Surrey clapped his hands, "Yes! Thank you, Captain. As I mentioned before, putting him back to work comes with the provision he attend daily sessions with me for a while, so I need you to add some flexibility into his schedule to allow for those sessions. I want Lieutenant Uhura involved in some of the sessions, too. Spock asked that she be there for a few of them; there are a couple of things that impact her, and his relationship with her, so..."

Kirk nodded and finally relaxed in the chair. With a relieved smile he said, "Sure, whatever he needs, Doc. Thanks."

* * *

When the _Haulat_ arrived at New Vulcan, Sa'aat had no difficulty maneuvering his cloaked ship through the planet's defensive grid; a fact that bristled at the back of his mind. Even in the aftermath of their homeworld's destruction, the transitional government had only taken moderate steps to protect their new planet from invasion. He had warned Semuk and the previously ensconced military leaders that more needed to be done to safeguard New Vulcan's fragile population, but his advice had apparently been ignored. Although the grid could detect larger, uncloaked vessels at a distance, if his small ship could evade detection so could others; therefore, the planet was vulnerable, if not to large-scale attacks then to hit-and-run guerilla tactics, which could include anything from assassinations to chemical and biological contamination of the atmosphere, food chain and water supply systems. Such an oversight was inexcusable.

As the _Haulat_ skimmed across the planet's surface to within a handful of kilometers from the outskirts of Svitan'Kahr, the main city, Sa'aat said to Sionak, "When you join the others, I want you to discuss the hollows in the planet's defensive grid. Prepare as many options to repair the gaps as possible, so I can present them to Sarek and the Fonn Vuhlkansu before the Transitional Council meeting."

"Yes, osu."

The ship then touched down for a few moments so Sionak could disembark. Sa'aat could have transported him into the city from any vantage point once he was within range, but he wanted to continue covertly for as long as possible, and transporters generated detectible energy fields. If T'Pau got wind of his presence, she might flee or take measures to defend herself. Sa'aat hoped to surprise her.

"Keep safe," Sa'aat said as Sionak exited the vessel.

Sionak bowed low. "And you as well, osu."

The _Haulat_ closed and waited, lifting up to hover slightly above the ground, until Sionak signaled he was safe within the city walls. It was then continued toward the Mazhiv Solai, a stretch of desert over one-hundred twenty kilometers wide at its broadest point and nearly three-hundred forty-three kilometers long. (4) Svitan'Kahr was situated at one end of the desert, and to the northeast, along the desert's flanks was a chain of volcanic mountains known as the Knunel-zehl T'Ni'rch. Near the far end, west of the mountain range, was a solitary cinder cone called Kt'a'vre Feh. (5) Sa'aat's intelligence had reported that T'Pau's hiding place was located within a lava tube (6) buried near the foot of the cone. He arrived near those coordinates just before dawn.

Dressed in _eshikh sai-vel_ (7) that matched the color of the native rocks - so he blended into the desert as easily as did the cloaked _Haulat_ - and armed with a microcorder (8), personal phaser and his lipitah, the small blade he trusted more than any energy-based weapon to defend him, Sa'aat slipped quickly toward the base of the Kt'a'vre Feh. After being cooped up on ships for so long, he relished the scent of fresh air, the feel of the sand beneath his boots and the open canopy of sky above him. The glittering star field overhead, unobscured by city lights, was brilliant and stunningly beautiful - but still looked alien to him.

It was dark and the air was cool and bracing when he stepped from the still cloaked _Haulat_. Two moons shone on the southern horizon, but because of their distance from the planet, neither reflected much light, and the long shadows on the desert floor were pale and indistinct. This new world had a sister planet as well, Uzh T'Kuht, but it was a sliver along the eastern horizon behind the mountains. This world presently held no memories or emotional keepsakes for Sa'aat, but a few things struck an oddly familiar chord within him. The planet's pull on his body was hard and enduring, its gravimetric field measurable to within a few microgals of Vulcan's (9); and the air had a vague scent of frankincense similar to his birthworld's.

For a moment, the loss of Vulcan struck at his mind and core again. He went down slowly onto one knee, and put his hand against the sand, attempting to feel this new world's center, its tam'a (10), but it was, as yet, unreachable. He could, nonetheless, sense the force of the planet: its magnetism, its heat, the movement of its molten core and tectonic plates, the growling of the nearby volcanoes, the flow of subterranean water streams, the babbling and skirmishes of native life-forms all around him, unseen but there.

Sa'aat slipped his hand into the sand up to his elbow, and drew out a large fo-kelek-tor (11). Within its closed-hinged shell it laid, still and protected, on the flat of his palm for several seconds before slowly poking out its head. "Ne'shauik, kevet-dutar," (12) his mind said to it. Three bright yellow eyes blinked at him in response, but the tortoise was silent. The planet and its creatures hadn't accepted the new settlers yet; they shielded themselves from the Vulcans, and remained incommunicative, apprehensive. He set the fo-kelek-tor back down on the sand and watched it wriggle and shimmy until it was hidden from view.

He wondered if the lesser planets and suns, directly within range of the black hole that was now Vulcan, would remain as they had always been during his childhood, or if they would be deformed and disfigured the singularity. The artificial black hole there was a rotating one; any object, therefore, that came within reach of its ergosphere would tend to move toward its rotation. Stellar material, cosmic radiation, light, gas, all would be drawn in, feeding the singularity, making it larger and more powerful, before its inevitable collapse. (13) What effects would the protons and radiation issuing from the singularity have on neighboring planets like T'Kuht and Delta Vega? And if katras survived the devastation of the homeworld, to where did they retreat? How long would they be viable? Would they be retrievable from the black hole? Or were they already swept away into the space-time continuum? Were they aware of their surroundings? Did they comprehend what had happened? Could they somehow join one another and form a coalescence of thought and experience?

These reminations occupied a portion of Sa'aat's mind as he jogged along the desert, and finally came to a stop, near enough to the lava tube to see its dark, ragged maw gaping in the coming light of dawn. He squatted down on the sand - looking like little more than a small outcropping of stone - and used his microcorder to search the area.

Natural veins of kelbonite(14) and other refractory ores in the strata interfered with his scans, even when the power and range were boosted through a link with the _Haulat_. The three-point-seven kilometer(15), multi-armed, undulating tube under the surface was easily readable, as was a small power source located at its far end where the kelbonite deposits were less dense, but the instrument told him little of what awaited him underground. Sa'aat surmised this was how T'Pau had evaded them for so long. Until she had activated the power source, she was invisible to conventional scanning equipment; and even after the generator had powered up, its emanations could be mistaken for extraneous thermodynamic "noise" from the nearby mountain range. Only with the boost from the _Haulat_ did his instruments pick up the generator's pulse. "Klon nemut," Sa'aat admitted as he headed toward the mouth of the tube.(16)

Before entering, he paused, closed his eyes, and set his mind out into the tunnel, searching. It revealed little; a smattering of impressions, most of them fading, like the energy of memories, and few that felt like little more than the precursors of instinct. That was unusual, he thought, as he pulled back into himself. Either T'Pau was gone, and he was picking up on a small animal or other unformed intellect, or she had been severely injured and left with only the most primitive brain stem activity still intact. Whatever the answer, it lay within.

* * *

Nyota headed toward the bridge for the start of her shift, smoothing her hair while she walked. Spock hadn't come to see her during the evening, and all morning she'd battled between the impulse to give him whatever space and time he needed to recover from the Katau Fa'ark, and her desire to find him and caress away his pain and confusion. Dr. Surrey had warned her against mollycoddling Spock, to let him stand on his own two feet, but it was hard to see Spock in so much distress and anguish and not do anything. She was an active woman, and passivity was difficult for her.

As she waited for the turbolift, she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and deliberately. The door opened and she was astonished to see Spock standing there in his Science Blues with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. Grinning, she stepped into the elevator beside him, and said, "Hey, gorgeous! How are you?"

As the door closed, Spock replied, "I am quite well, thank you, Lieutenant."

"_Lieutenant_. We're being formal this morning, are we?"

"Yes, as is warranted when in the performance of one's duties."

Nyota stepped in front of him in order to look into his eyes. He had worn his uniform yesterday, but hadn't been on duty, so she hadn't taken it as a clue, in and of itself, that he had been reinstated. "You're not teasing me, are you?" He cocked his head, as if he didn't understand, so she clarified, "You've been returned to active duty?"

"Hah, k'diwa." (17)

"Oh my God, Spock!" Nyota threw her arms around his neck, giving him a congratulatory smattering of sharp kisses on the cheek, chin and mouth. "I'm so happy for you!"

At first, he held his body rigid against hers, defensively noncompliant. When she didn't stop hugging him, however, Spock relaxed a bit, leaning in against her and letting her support him for a few seconds. As she held him, Nyota repeated, "I'm so glad, I'm so glad..."

"I, too, am grateful to be able to resume my station." Spock used his hands at her waist to set her a step away from him, so he could focus on her, and it struck Nyota that even as he held her, he was also pushing her away. She had felt this same push-pull during their conversation yesterday; it pained and bewildered her.

"Do you need anything?" she asked, offering her support without implying he required it, which was her way when dealing with the dichotomy of his Vulcan-Human nature. "Can I help you with anything?"

Although expressionless, his touch went warm and faintly communicative. His emotional shields were up, but Nyota felt hints of sincerity, relief, confusion and affection filter through his fingertips. Spock murmured, "I require only that you remain patient with me, k'diwa. I know I have not, as of late, been an entirely affable or attentive mate and I intend to make rectifying that deficiency a priority during my recuperation."

He had mentioned this self-perceived defect to her nearly a week ago, and she had told him not to worry about it, but, apparently, he still thought he was failing her in some way. She assured him with, "Rai vravshaya pakashogau nash-veh svi'tu, k'diwa,"(18) as she put a soothing, supportive hand to his cheek so he could read her touch if he wanted. Spock closed his eyes, allowing some of his emotional shields to drop.

At first, Nyota experienced the periphery of his feelings: cold, hollow areas made up of Spock's unspoken uncertainty and trepidation and impenetrable walls. However, from deep below those, affection poured into her like a liquid rainbow, spreading from the center of her body to the tips of her fingers and toes and to the end of each strand of her hair: perennial greens, fiery reds, temperate blues, and regal purples. Her eyes smiled at him and he nodded slightly, accepting her silent joy.

The turbolift opened onto the bridge and Spock immediately withdrew his hands; the colors flicked off as if by a switch. The emotions, however, lingered with Nyota, and when she stepped on the bridge ahead of Spock, she couldn't help radiating happiness. Spock followed, acutely aware of everyone else's eyes upon him.

Kirk had not yet arrived, so Spock was the commanding officer on deck, but he didn't sit in the captain's chair. Instead, he slipped into his seat at the Science Station and began running the first daily routine diagnostics on the ship's computer system. When, after eleven-point-four-five seconds, he realized he was still being watched, he turned his chair slowly to face the other crewmembers. "Is there some difficulty, gentlemen?" he asked. (19)

"No, Commander," Mr. Sulu grinned from his seat at the helm. "We're just glad you're back, sir."

Smiles and nods of agreement went around the bridge, before Mr. Chekhov, seated beside Sulu at the Navigation Station, began clapping, setting off a round of applause from everyone. Nyota laughed with delight as she joined in. Spock, expressionless, took in the noise for several minutes, and when it abated, tilted his head in grateful acknowledgement and returned his attention to the diagnostics. Behind his back, Sulu and Chekhov both gave Nyota a thumbs-up and smiled broadly at her, making her chuckle again.

Turning his head to look at Nyota, while keeping the helms crew in the corner of his eye, Spock said, "If we may now dispense with the jocularity, and proceed with our duties -"

"Aye, Commander," said Sulu, as Chekhov said, "Sorry, Commander," but they were both smiling.

"Lieutenant Uhura."

"Yes, Commander?" Nyota answered crisply.

"Please hail the New Vulcan Council apprising them of our ETA. Also, apprise the medical fleet of our progress and ascertain their status. I want to know if any further prep work needs to be completed before we reach the planet."(20)

"Yes, Commander," Nyota put the silvery communications bud into her ear to listen to the transmissions. _Back to normal_, she thought, and sighed in relief.

* * *

The lava tube was cool and dark. Sa'aat used his natural night vision, supplemented with light from the microcorder, to make his way down its meandering, rugged path. The floor was uneven, the curved walls pitted and ridged with flow-lines. The ceiling, jagged with volcanic splash and shark-tooth-like lavacicles, was low enough in some places for him to reach up and touch, so he was careful not to move too quickly; a tumble could result in serious injury. In some areas, little antechambers, like fistulas, jutted from the main tube but led nowhere. He kept the microcorder scanning and his own senses primed for any hint of sound, movement or thought around him.

The artificial wall sealing off the tunnel near the far end of the lava tube was the first indication of habitation. A large oval door, like the mouth of a sea urchin, stood shut in the middle of it. Sa'aat searched for a way to open it, and eventually located a control panel hidden in the floor. His lipitah in one hand and the microcorder in the other, he used his foot to activate the control. When the door opened, he slipped silently into the chamber.

* * *

Captain Kirk arrived on the bridge, taking his seat in the command chair, and Spock waited for the other bridge personnel to give the captain their status updates before handing Kirk a PADD with the morning's diagnostic readouts. He had already signed off on the report, but it required two command signatures before it could be entered into the logs.

Kirk pretended to peruse the document; things like this were little more than boring busywork for him. He trusted his personnel and didn't feel the need to add his two cents to anything they produced; but he also understood the necessity for the internal controls set forth by Starfleet protocols, so he signed the report without comment or complaint. "Mister Spock. How are you feeling?" he asked with a smile as he handed the PADD back.

Spock, inexpressive, answered with an abbreviated, "Adequately recovered. Thank you, Captain."

Kirk leaned in toward him. "How's your mom?"

Spock flinched, almost but not quite, imperceptibly. He recalled the incident when Kirk had mentioned his mother and things had not gone well.(21) It was difficult for him to separate the emotions of that day from the present, so his answer wasn't immediate. "She is... grateful to be herself once more."

"She didn't like being inside you?"

Spock glanced around the bridge; others were eavesdropping on a conversation, which, for Spock, felt far too personal to be conducted in a group setting. "It is not a matter of liking or disliking the container, Captain. She is simply gratified to, once again, have some semblance of privacy and individuality." He then deliberately changed the subject, "We will be arriving at New Vulcan in forty-nine hours, seventeen-minutes. Mister Scott confirms the engineering teams will be ready to begin constructing the medical bivouacs as soon as we arrive. Once the structures are completed, medical supplies and personnel can be beamed to the surface. Doctors McCoy, M'Benga and Deerfoot estimate we should be able to begin providing services to the plak-tau females less than twenty hours after our arrival on the surface."

"Sounds good," Kirk said, sitting up straight in his chair, wordlessly acknowledging that Spock was finished with the personal chitchat he had initiated. As Spock headed back toward his station, the captain added a heartfelt, "It's nice to have you back on the bridge, Mister Spock."

Spock nodded once and said, "Thank you, Captain," before returning to his duties.

* * *

"Vitorau ha'gel,"(22) Sa'aat said as he pocketed the microcorder and snapped the lipitah into the sheath on his belt; and the lava tube chamber was flooded with illumination from a broad bank of overhead lights. Since there were no obvious light switches along the walls, he had presumed the system was voice-activated. The fact that it wasn't attuned only to T'Pau's voice meant she'd had other people there who, at various times, were left alone. The system would therefore respond to any voice it heard.

The chamber was longer than it was wide and partitioned with low, four-foot walls that separated the living, working, eating and sanitation spaces. Near the far end of the chamber was an incongruous decorative room divider, a tall four-panel screen made of Vulcan silk, hand-painted with images of swooping and diving teresh-kah.(23) It was an old token of extreme wealth among the paltry furnishings and other trappings of poverty in the place. To the right of the door was the larger of two generators: a compact, efficient, and quiet unit that not only supplied electricity, but also managed to circulate the air and warm the space. A stack of large containers along the wall to the left indicated T'Pau had had fresh water brought in for her, rather than opting for conventional plumbing.

T'Pau herself was not there, however. Sa'aat had missed her, but his senses told him she had not been gone for more than a day, and that she'd left abruptly.

There were still active PADDs on a table; fruit was ripening in the food preparation area; and some bloodied towels on the floor in the sanitation space were still somewhat damp. A perusal of the PADDs indicated T'Pau had been extensively researching placental abruption and placenta previa, cesarean sections, and premature births; and a scan of the blood on the towels indicated it was T'Pau's: vaginal blood mixed with other secretions. It would take a more powerful medical scanner to tell him any more than that. Nevertheless, Sa'aat surmised she was suffering the same prenatal conditions as the majority of the plak-tau women, and since Semuk and T'Pau had never consummated their relationship, Sa'aat suspected the child she carried was Spock's.

The fact that she could carry a child at her age was remarkable; but, since her offspring was a product of rape, Sa'aat was averse to being impressed by its existence. He did admit, however, that as long as she carried Spock's child, she was safe from his blade. If nothing else, the pregnancy bought her a little time. He delved more deeply into the information on the PADDs but could fine nothing about her fetus. There had been scans, but they had been expertly erased - recently. Someone must have told her he was coming, and she had tried to expunge the evidence of her sin from the PADDs before he arrived. The towels were proof she was not as careful as she would have liked to have been.

Sa'aat set aside the PADDs, and walked over to the silk room divider, thinking how it must have galled her to leave the thing behind. He tipped it over, activated his phaser, and obliterated the divider.

When he looked up from the black scar left on the floor he was momentarily stunned by what he found. The second, smaller generator, which the microcorder's earlier readings had told him was there, was attached to a tube-like machine, suspended from the ceiling by heavy cables, seven feet long by three feet wide. Its undercarriage and sides, constructed of medical-grade steel, were solid, but its top was clear. Its faintly illuminated interior was filled with fine green vapor. Small screens attached to its foot were alight with readings. Sa'aat recognized the device immediately.

It was a _has-vitau-kebi_, a medical stasis chamber.

Sa'aat's skin prickled with distaste as he considered possible reasons for the presence of the device. T'Pau could have retreated into the tube when it became apparent she could not bring her fetus to term without assistance; the fetus may have been born prematurely, and T'Pau could have put it there until she found an alternative treatment for it; or it could hold Semuk's missing body, preserved by T'Pau out of some grotesque display of affection. Or it could be…

Inside the tube was the body of T'Cloo.

Naked, her eyes shut, her broken neck still crooked at an odd angle, the woman floated in a gravity free environment inside the tube, surrounded by potun-tor vapors(24) that preserved and nourished her cells. Clear tubes of varying sizes, connected to different points on her body, fed her intravenously, circulated her blood, filled her lungs with air and maintained her temperature. According to the displays, everything was within normal parameters. Yet it was clear none of this mechanical effort was for her benefit. T'Cloo exhibited no brainwave activity and the readings indicated her heart and lungs could not function independent of the machine. She was dead.

Her fetus, however, was very much alive.

Sa'aat's fingers slid along the stasis chamber's warm surface as his mind touched the child developing inside T'Cloo's body. Its unformed thoughts sifted to him through a haze of primal sensations that ebbed and flowed quickly to the bird-like rhythm of its heartbeat. This was the primitive activity he had sensed before he entered the tunnel.

As he slowly withdrew his hand, he could not imagine what had compelled T'Pau's actions. T'Cloo, an unremarkable female from her dead paramour's maat, had meant nothing to her. They shared no affections, no friendship, and no professional contacts. Apparently, it was the unborn child alone who had mattered to T'Pau; the fact she had gone to such lengths to secure the fetus's well-being, rather than trying to resuscitate the mother, said as much. But what significance could the fetus hold for her? Sa'aat scanned for the fetus's gender and genetic signature with the microcorder, and was not surprised by the results.

Male.

Organ placement, skin type, physiological systems: all Vulcan.

Scant traces of Human elements in the blood.

It was definitely Spock's child.

Sa'aat shook his head; the situation seemed morbid and incomprehensible. What did T'Pau gain by allowing Spock's seed to germinate within a dead woman's body? Did she intend to ransom the child to Spock; using it as a blood price for her own survival and safety? Did she plan on raising it and turning it against its father? Or did she have something more twisted and nefarious in mind? Sa'aat could not begin to guess. What was clear, however, was that he had to get the machine and its viable contents out of the cave somehow.

In her haste to escape, T'Pau had abandoned the thing, which indicated that removing it was most likely very problematic. And so it was.

Since the kelbonite in the lava tube's walls prevented him from contacting the _Haulat_, or using the ship's transporter, he considered moving the device himself. If he could somehow get it to the mouth of the lava tube, the _Haulat_ could snatch it up from there; but, if he detached the chamber from its overhead moorings, he'd also have to disconnect it from the generator and life-support systems sustaining T'Cloo's body. He didn't know how long the fetus could survive without those systems. Besides, between T'Cloo and the machine itself, the whole mechanism weighed over one-hundred and eighty-one kilos (25). Even with his Vulcan strength, he couldn't shove it down the entire length of the tunnel by himself.

Removing the fetus from T'Cloo's body with his knife, and carrying it out would be easy enough, but again, the child would be without exterior support, and at two months premature, he couldn't guarantee it would survive long enough for him to reach the _Haulat_.

After several minutes of indecision, Sa'aat stepped away from the machine. The kelbonite kept him from using the _Haulat's_ transporter and communications systems, but it could not contain his mind. He sent his thoughts to the ship, willing it to join him. As Sa'aat carefully jogged back down the length of the lava tube, the still cloaked _Haulat,_ an invisible thing casting a shadow on the sand, drifted along the desert to meet him at the tunnel's entrance. Once inside the ship, he sent a veiled distress signal to Sionak and the others in their group.

* * *

Nyota turned from her station, announcing to Kirk, "Sir, we have an incoming transmission from New Vulcan."

"On screen."

The image of three Vulcans the captain had never seen before, a male and two females, filled the large view screen. The females were graceful-looking twins, an extreme rarity among Vulcan families.

Still young by Vulcan standards, they stood tall and poised with their hands cupped on top of their enlarged abdomens. Both wore their hair up under loose fitting scarves, the ends of which trailed to the floor, and both were dressed in impeccable full-length maternity gowns with decorative straps cradling their mid-sections. The male was much older, and was dressed in a suit made of dark green chapped cloth with three Vulcan symbols embroidered down one side of his asymmetrical coat. On his otherwise bald head was a gleaming, seamless skullcap made of what looked like polished gold.

Spock, in his seat at his station, looked at the screen, and then on a facial cue from the captain, stepped toward the command chair. "Do you know them, Spock?" Kirk asked under his breath.

"No, Captain. They do not seem familiar," he answered just as quietly. Then frowning slightly, he asked, "Should I know them?"

"No. Not necessarily," the captain assured him. Turning his attention back to the view screen he said, "Greetings from the _U.S.S. Enterprise_. I am Captain James T. Kirk, and this is my First Officer, Commander Spock."

"We know who you are, Captain Kirk," the male said in a rich baritone voice. "Your reputation, and that of your First Officer, precedes you. I am Stenn, of the Triumvirate, the supplementary Council of Ministers of New Vulcan. These are my co-council, T'Lale and T'Yelas."

Spock's eyebrows tightened in the middle of his forehead; the women's names seemed familiar to him, but he could not immediately recall where he'd heard them before. Stenn continued, "We are gratified by the Federation's willingness to assist the Vulcan people with our current emergency, and thank you for your prompt response to our calls for relief."

"We're glad to be of assistance, Triumvirate Member Stenn. We should be arriving at your planet in -"

"Forty-seven hours, thirteen minutes," said Spock.

"My engineers can start setting up medical units as soon as you clear us through your security grid. If you could provide us with the coordinates in advance, along with the topography of the area, it would help a lot."

"We can provide you with whatever data you require," Stenn answered. "We understand your medical chiefs also requested samples of the plak-tau drug used in compliance with the Ek'tevan Prerogative."

"Yes, they did."

"Samples have been procured, and will be available to you upon your arrival. We will make ourselves, our agents and our staff available to you throughout this crisis, should you need us."

"Thank you, sir. We won't be dealing with the former Ministers at all, then?"

"No, Captain. Former Ministers T'Pessmar, Ne'Milk and Teylon have stepped down from office. And as you may be aware, former Ministers Semuk and T'Pau are presently unaccounted for. The Triumvirate, although a temporary fixture, is the current ruling body on our planet."

"Okay," said Kirk. "If it's not too impolite to ask, could you... could you tell me if the Ek'tevan Prerogative is still in effect? Quite frankly, I don't want my First Officer beaming down there if things are still kind of... squinty."

"_Squinty_, Captain?"

"A Human colloquialism, referring to confusion or uncertainty," Spock explained.

"Ah. In answer to the question: no, the edict has not yet been revoked."

Kirk shook his head, unsatisfied with that bit of information, and in response to his disapproval, T'Lale spoke up. "We are postponing any action on that subject, Captain, until the new Council of Ministers is formed and its members can vote on the matter. It is our hope the issue will be settled at that time. In the meanwhile, the edict is not being enforced in any way."

"We're relieved to hear that, ma'am. I know the edict is outside the scope of the Federation's jurisdiction, and whatever laws the Vulcans enact are their own, but... Off the record, on a personal note, I appreciate the fact that you're reconsidering that particular statute."

"Many on New Vulcan reflect your viewpoint, Captain."

"Is there anything else you need; anything we can do for you before we arrive?"

"No, Captain. Your presence, and the presence of the medical frigates, is more than sufficient," said T'Lale. Her dark eyes shifted to Spock. "Shar nam-tor du Zhel-lan Spahk, kuv istau fun-tor du tor panu t'dular sular." _(You are secure, Commander Spock, if you wish to return to the world of your people.) _[26]

It was Kirk's turn to look confused; he didn't understand what that last sentence meant, and looked to Spock for a translation. Spock was impassive. He tilted his head toward the view screen, in a partial but polite bow to T'Lale and answered her, "Nemaiyo, T'Rehsu Kisau T'Lale. Hi dungi-fun nash-veh goh lu snem nam-tor Ek'tevan to-gav heh fun nam-tor kanashivaya yehtlar t'elik salar t'Uzh T'Kashi." _(Thank you, Triumvirate Member T'Lale. However, I will return only when the Ek'tevan edict is revoked and reproductive rights are returned to the free males of New Vulcan.)_

"Kent-tor etwel. Gish Sa'aat du dungi-kesau nash-kro'el." _(We understand. Sa'aat suggested you would respond this way.)_

"Ah," Spock said as realization struck him. Files Sa'aat had transmitted from the _Haulat_ had mentioned T'Lale and T'Yelas - along with the names of Sarek's plak-tau women, and Spock's own. Names, but little else. "Sa'aat t'dular plak-tau sa ne'Ek'tevan to-gav, hah? Lesh dular ish-veh kanlar." _(Sa'aat was your plak-tau male under the Ek'tevan edict. You carry his children.)_

"Hah. On t'nash-veh ko-kai eh nash-veh." _(Yes. Both my sister and I.)_

"Istau nash-veh dular heh t'dular ko-kai sochya eh dif." _(I wish you both and your off-spring peace and long life.)_

Both women bowed low and replied in tandem, "Dif-tor heh smusma, Spahk - sa-fu t'Amanda." _(Live long and prosper, Spock - son of Amanda.)_

The screen went black and Kirk looked to Spock and then to Nyota. "Okay. Is somebody going to tell me what that was all about?"

* * *

Removing T'Cloo's body from the underground bunker was complicated, but doable. A dozen ex-military personnel, including Sionak, who were still loyal to Sa'aat and still regarded him as their Kahr-Lan joined him, bringing as many anti-gravity pallets as they could muster. Between them, they lowered the heavy stasis tube onto five pallets and used a sixth to carry the generator. After detaching the cables and wires from the overhead conduits and reconnecting them directly to the generator to maintain the environment in the tube, the group carefully walked the stasis chamber from the tunnel and into the _Haulat_.

Since the _Enterprise_ would be in orbit around the planet within two days, Sa'aat made the decision, for good or for ill, to keep the unit aboard the _Hau lat_, rather than taking T'Cloo's body to the Medical Facility in the city, where it would doubtlessly cause an uproar. "The child is Spock's; its disposition is for him alone to decide," Sa'aat explained to the others. "Our duty is to keep it safe until he arrives."

Looking at the tube, Sionak uttered, "I am amazed that such an intelligent and powerful woman as T'Pau could fall so quickly into the oblivion of madness. Her pervasive insanity reaches out even to the dead."

"Kum'i veh tor-fam k'gad-keshtan ek'rasahkos stislak. Pavesh-tor mesuvulaya k'leh-the pi-nehkaya svi'mu-yor t'katra." (27)

"Surak?"

"No. The words of the Coh'Lie philosopher, Growleet... translated into Vulcan, of course."(28) Sa'aat rarely mentioned the Coh'Lie, and Sionak longed to ask him about them, but Sa'aat had already moved onto other topics: the security measures they already had in place; where they would position themselves in and around the Cathedral during the meeting of the new Transitional Council; how T'Pau may have escaped.

The consensus was she may have used clothing or a small vehicle sheathed in kelbonite to hide from their scans. Questions about T'Pau's present location, and the identity of whomever had alerted her Sa'aat was coming, were met with silence. Sa'aat dismissed the guards' awkward bows of shame over having failed him by saying simply, "Talal ko-veh."(29)

* * *

As the day shift ended, and the night crew started filtering onto the bridge, Kirk rubbed his face and took in a deep breath. Spock had made it through the day without a single upset - at least that Kirk could see - and had performed his duties flawlessly, just as he normally would. Spock's incapacity had lasted little more than a week, but to the captain it had seemed like months. Now, Kirk felt he could relax, let go of his worries about his First Officer, and they could get back to their lives, friendships, and jobs.

"Captain," Nyota said from her station. "I have an in-coming call from New Vulcan."

Kirk gave her a questioning glance and said, "On screen, Lieutenant."

Four Vulcan women appeared on the view screen; one standing in the foreground, the other three lined up behind her. Nyota and Kirk immediately recognized them as four of the women who had participated in Spock's plak-tau; and they both turned to Spock, trying to gauge his reaction.

* * *

(1) **The** **Psych Exams:** Most of the exams listed are those I made up, based on current psychoanalysis testing models; the Psychotronic Stability Examination (PSE), however, is one that has been used in Trek canon. **Bleeker Memory Test (BMT):** this was based on a currently existing evaluative test called the _Sternberg Memory Test_. **Federation Verbal Learning Test (FVLT):** this was based on a currently existing evaluative test called the _California Verbal Learning Test_. **Bendaii Syndrome Analysis Evaluation (BSAE):** This one I totally made up; Bendaii Syndrome is a disease which renders Vulcans incapable of suppressing their emotions; so I felt Dr. Surrey should test Spock for that. **Sillan-T'Perka Neuropsychological Series:** this was based on a currently existing evaluative test called the _Halsted-Reitan Neuropsychological Battery_; I renamed it using Vulcan names so it would be applicable to Spock. **Vulcan Multiphasic Personality Register (VMPR):** this was based on a currently existing evaluative test called the _Multiphasic Personality Inventory_. **Starfleet Global Assessment of Functioning Test (SGAFT)**: this was based on a currently existing evaluative test called the GAF or _Global Assessment of Functioning_. **Somatoform Disorders Evaluation (SDE): **I made this one up to evaluate Spock's pelvic pain (a "somatoform" disorder in which mental dysfunction manifests as a physical injury or illness that cannot be confirmed through conventional medical tests). **Psychotronic Stability Examination (PSE):** this is the Trek canon one. According to the Memory Alpha Site: _"A __**psychotronic stability examination**__ is a test used to gauge an individuals psychological reaction of the images the computer projects. It is a required test for all Starfleet cadets prior to graduation from Starfleet Academy. In 2365, Counselor Troi conducted a psychotronic stability exam on Data, following a series of insubordinate acts he had committed. The outcome of the exam determined that there were two distinct personalities contained within Data, the dominant of which was that of Dr. Ira Graves."_

(2) **PTDS and RTS:** these are acronyms for "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" and "Rape Trauma Syndrome"

(3) A quick acknowledgement and thank you to FarStraider for this line. **:-)**

(4) **The size of the Mazhiv Solai:** 213 miles long (or 342.79 kilometers) and 75 miles wide at its widest point (120.70 kilometers)

(5) **Landmarks on New Vulcan:** **Svitan'Kahr** (Center City), the original settlement on New Vulcan which acts for the time being as the planet's capitol and port of call; **Knunel-zehl T'Ni'rch** (Mountain Range of Fire) the volcanic mountain range northeast of Svitan 'Kahr; and **Kt'a'vre Feh** (Glass Peak) a solitary cinder cone to the west of the Knunel-zehl T'Ni'rch. **Author's note:** none of these are Trek canon.

(6) **Lava tube:** a lava tube is a kind of tunnel or cave left underground after a stream of lava has burned through the ground and then retreated again. In Northern California, where I live, there are lava tubes all around Mt. Lassen; and one, called the "Subway Cave" is open to the public. My description of the lava tube in this chapter is based on that.

(7) **Eshikh sai-vel**: The Vulcan term for "desert clothing" or "desert gear".

(8) **Microcorder:** a handheld instrument along the lines of a Federation tricorder, but much smaller in overall size. (This is NOT Trek canon; I made the device up.)

(9) **Microgals**: gravimetric pull is measured in units called "gals" or "microgals" (mGal). On Earth, gravity decreases 0.3 mGal for every meter of height.

(10) **Tam'a:** this is the Vulcan word for "spirit", or as the (Vulcan Language Dictionary) VLD explains: _"__the vital principle or animating force within living beings; incorporeal consciousness; a being inhabiting or embodying a particular place, object, or natural phenomenon"._ Not all Vulcans accept that planets and other places can possess or embody a spirit that is unique to them, but Sa'aat does; it's part of his religious beliefs.

(11) **Fo-kelek-tor:** a kind of desert tortoise; it's name literally translates from the Vulcan as "shell dweller". (This is NOT canon; I made these creatures up myself.)

(12)**Ne'shauik, kevet-dutar**: translated from the Vulcan this means, "Greetings, Ambassador."

(13) **Black Holes 101:** The following information was derived from various sources, most notably the Astronomy Café, NASA, and Wikipedia: _The popular notion of a black hole "sucking in everything" in its surroundings is only correct near the black hole horizon; far away, the external gravitational field is identical to that of any other body of the same mass... Rotating black holes are surrounded by a region of spacetime in which it is impossible to stand still, called the ergosphere. This is the result of a process known as frame-dragging; general relativity predicts that any rotating mass will tend to slightly "drag" along the spacetime immediately surrounding it. Any object near the rotating mass will tend to start moving in the direction of rotation...Once a black hole has formed, it can continue to grow by absorbing additional matter. Any black hole will continually absorb interstellar dust from its direct surroundings and omnipresent cosmic background radiation, but neither of these processes should significantly affect the mass of a stellar black hole. More significant contributions can occur when the black hole is formed in a binary star system. After formation the black hole can then leech significant amounts of matter from its companion... As an object approaches the event horizon, the horizon near the object bulges up and swallows the object. Shortly thereafter the increase in radius (due to the extra mass) is distributed evenly around the hole... As a black hole radiates energy, it shrinks and the more it shrinks, the more it radiates (this is the nature of the radiative process) and so finally it will completely evaporate..._ There is the also the phenomenon in some black holes of "gushing" out a stream of radiation, x-rays, and compact protons which can impact directly on any neighboring planetary bodies. [[Thank you, again to my beta FarStrider for encouraging me to look into the phenomenon more carefully. ]]

(14) **Kelbonite:** this kind of ore has been used in several Star Trek stories to defeat scanners, energy beams and transporters. According to the Memory Alpha site, it "_is a refractory metal capable of deflecting or interfering with certain types of scans and energy beams, including the transporter. It can be found naturally within caverns and tunnels on many planets."_

(15) **3.7 kilometers** = 2.3 miles.

(16) **Klon nemut:** from the Vulcan this translates as "Intelligent enemy."

(17) **Hah, k'diwa**: from the Vulcan this translates as "Yes, beloved."

(18) **Rai vravshaya pakashogau nash-veh svi'tu, k'diwa**: from the Vulcan this translates as "I perceive no failings in you, beloved."

(19) **Gentlemen**: the term is a generic one used when addressing ALL crewmembers, regardless of their gender.

(20) **ETA**: short for "Estimated Time of Arrival". (You all know this, but I thought I should put in a footnote anyway.)

(21) This in reference to the scene in the 2009 **"Star Trek"** movie when Kirk baited Spock into an emotional display by commenting that Spock never really loved his mother because he didn't display his feelings for her after her death. Spock reacted by beating Kirk into the computer panels.

(22) **Vitorau ha'gel:** from the Vulcan this translates as "Activate lights".

(23) **Teresh-kah:** Vulcan "silver-birds"; bird-like predators native to the planet Vulcan.

(24) **Potun-tor vapors**: gases that help sustain and preserve biological tissue. (This is NOT canon; I made this up myself.); **Potun-tor** is the Vulcan word for "sustain", or, as the VLD puts it: _"to keep in existence; maintain; to supply with necessities or nourishment; provide for"_

(25) **181 kilos** = 398.2, or almost 400, pounds

(26) **Conversation:** Again, I don't usually give in-line translation, but this conversation included a lot of long sentences, so I thought an immediate translation would be helpful. I apologize if the in-line translations are distracting.

(27) **Kum'i veh tor-fam k'gad-keshtan ek'rasahkos stislak. Pavesh-tor mesuvulaya k'leh-the pi-nehkaya svi'mu-yor t'katra:** from the Vulcan this translates as, _"One does not awaken with the dawn an evil monster. The transformation happens with a thousand small submissions in the night of the soul."_ This is actually the "Vulcanized" version of the quote by the Human, Robert Brault, _"You do not wake up one morning a bad person. It happens by a thousand tiny surrenders of self-respect to self-interest."_

(28) **Coh'Lie quote:** In my back-story for the Coh'Lie race, Growleet was sort of like the Coh'Lie version of Surak. He lead his people out of their predatory ways and established them as a self-sufficient, self-governing race. When Sa'aat was among the Coh'Lie people, he learned the ways of Growleet, and taught the Coh'Lie the ways of Surak.

(29) **Talal ko-veh:** from the Vulcan this tanslates as "Find her."


	20. Chapter 20

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

For those of you who may have read the unbetaed version of this chapter, this is now the fully editted version. As always, my thanks go out to **FarStrider **and **Truthrider** for their wonderful assistance with this work!

I thank you, too, everyone who've left reviews and comments on this and my other story "The Ek'tevan Prerogative". I can't express to you how much your input helps me as I continue to craft my stories.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY:**

"_Enterprise_, we greet you." The eldest woman, the group's spokesperson, stepped forward, her copper-colored eyes flicking to Spock at his station before returning to Kirk. Her smoky voice had a sensual quality that caused some males on the bridge, including the captain, to smile vaguely — and Nyota to scowl. She was statuesque, almost regal, with her hands folded on her protruding abdomen, her chin held high, and her posture a display of poise, feminine strength and forthrightness. The somewhat tired look in her eyes was the only sign of the strain caused by her difficult pregnancy, on her fox-like features. Behind her one other woman, tall and voluptuous, was pregnant; the remaining two — one with a moon-shaped face, and the other flat-chested, the youngest of the group — were not.

"We greet you in return, Ladies. I'm Captain James T. Kirk. How may I assist you?"

"If I may have a brief moment to speak to Commander Spock?"

"You seem to be popular today, Mister Spock," Kirk joked, trying to keep the mood light.

"Evidently," Spock deadpanned, rising from his seat to step down to the front of the bridge. He purposely stood in front of the navigation consoles, with his back to the captain and the crew, so they couldn't see his face, and he didn't have to see their stares. It also let the women on the screen see his entire body, indicating that he wasn't hiding anything from them. He stood with his hands behind his back, his posture somewhat formal and rigid, as he raised his head to show off his full height and display his solid, masculine core. His eyes narrowed slightly as his bruised memory struggled to make connections between the image on the viewscreen and the data in his mind.

"Wouldn't you prefer a more private setting?" Kirk asked from behind him.

"Privacy may be required later, but not for these brief greetings and introductions, Captain," the spokeswoman answered in her sultry voice. "I do appreciate your understanding the somewhat delicate nature of our association with your First Officer." She gestured toward Spock with an open hand, "If I may?"

"Sure," said Kirk.

She focused on Spock, took a deep breath and said, "Spahk, sa-fu t'Amanda t'Terra, nash-veh nam-tor T'Liik wuh'wak pid-com t'Sonuk maat." (_Spock, son of Amanda of Earth, I am T'Liik, once the matriarch of the Sonuk clan.)_[1] Kirk blinked, surprised that he actually understood some of that. However, when the woman continued with, "Lu vesht ragel-tor fa'etek du katal k'plak-tau. Naglanshau nash-veh du hah," , he was lost again. (_When we last met, you were devoured by the blood fever. Do you recognize me?_)

"Vesht va'zan-tor faik fi'plak-tau t'nash-veh, heh d'thin t'ek'du. Ne'shau ek'du nash-veh tra'fa, T'Liikong Karilong T'Edriong V'Rha'lahnong. Dor-tor nash-veh nam-tor k'du la'es, kosu t'Uzh T'Kashi, tol-m'aih t'etek kho'stri," Spock answered in a strong and clear voice, without hesitation or equivocation. (_I reviewed the data on my plak-tau, and am aware of all of you. I greet you all, therefore, T'Liik, Karil, T'Edri and V'Rha'lahn. I am honored by your presence, women of New Vulcan, progenitors of our race.)_ He bowed low, hands still behind his back, and held it for several seconds before rising.

The women returned the bow — the pregnant ones with a little more difficulty than the others — and after they rose, T'Liik asked him, "Lashaik na'Uzh T'Kashi lu tu hah?" (_When will you be arriving at New Vulcan?_)

"Nam-tor _Enterprise_ irak reh'leh naukuh wadan, leh-dah lirt'k." (_The __Enterprise__ is thirty-nine hours, twelve minutes distant._)

"Stariben k'du lau dular po'lashan t'du hah?" (_May we speak with you after your arrival?_)

"Kuv kal-tor kaf gu-vam t'nash-veh, hah. (_If my duties permit it, yes._) Spock tilted his head slightly, his eyes half-lidded, and added, "Dungi-stariben, yi, isha ko T'Makh hah?" (_Would it be possible, at that time, to speak also with the female T'Makh?_)

"Fai-tor t'ko-veh than nash-veh. Dungi-gol'dvunek t'ko-veh deshker t'du . (_I know of her. I will relay your request to her._)

Spock looked up at her again, "Nemaiyo." (_Thank you._)

"Yi, dungi-smo'ni t'du vutau etek. Th'i-oxalra t'du nuhk'es, Zhel-lan, svi'nosh — kel'o-fam." (_Then,_ we_ will await your call. I appreciate your courtesy, Commander, in this... uncomfortable situation._)

"Eh t'du nash-veh, pid-com." (_And I yours, matriarch._)

When the screen returned to a view of the star field, Kirk's gaze darted between Spock and Nyota, waiting for one of them to translate for him as he tried to gauge their reactions to the conversation. Nyota, her eyes on Spock, looked concerned but not overly so. Spock stood with his back to the bridge for several seconds, before he turned, letting his glance sweep over Nyota, and stepped toward the captain's chair.

"Everything okay?" Kirk asked him.

"Yes, captain. Everything is... fine." Even as the word escaped his lips, Spock's mind clutched a distant memory: _he and his mother standing on the balcony in the Great Hall of the Vulcan Science Academy. "You'll do fine," she had said to him, and he had responded with a curt, "__Fine__ has variable definitions... __Fine__ is unacceptable." _(2)

* * *

Nyota was forced into nearly jogging in order to keep up with Spock's long-legged stride as she followed him to his rooms after their shift. She didn't want to push herself on him or demand attention or affection; she simply felt he might need to talk after seeing the women of his plak-tau. He was incommunicative in the turbolift, and equally silent in the corridor, but Nyota had expected that. He rarely spoke of private matters in open places, and she hoped he would be more inclined to address his impressions with her in the inner sanctum of his quarters. When they arrived, he stopped and gave her a long look, but said nothing; his face offered little, and he wasn't mentally projecting anything. Her own expression asked "What?", but he opened the door without answering.

She followed him into the unlit front room, but stopped when he held a hand in front of her. At first, she thought he was barring her from the suite altogether, but then realized he was simply keeping her from turning on the lights. He gestured toward the far end of the front room where Pa'shu and her cubs napped on a mattress. The sehlat looked like a small furry mountain, while G'by and Ta'an looked like tiny snoring rocks at her side. What surprised Nyota, however, was the sight of Tasmeen asleep on the floor beside them. G'by lifted his cub-fluffy head, mouth gaped in a wide toothless yawn, and snuffed, his nose doing the work his eyes weren't capable of doing yet, locating Tasmeen. Rolling his body a bit, the cub situated himself close enough to take in Tasmeen's child-scent with every breath while still being able to avail himself of his mother's warmth. He settled in again, and with a tiny hiccup fell back to sleep.

They tiptoed to the bedroom door, which opened with a quiet _thiikk_, and entered. As the door closed, Nyota turned on the lights — dim enough so Spock didn't have to squint against their brilliance — and waited for her own eyes to adjust to the semi-dark room. "Aren't you worried the cubs might 'imprint' on her?" she asked.

"Volume - " Spock murmured, making a lowering motion with his hand. "Keep your voice low, please. Vulcan children have very acute hearing, even in their sleep. As for the possibility of the cubs imprinting on Tasmeen: it is my hope they do."

"Won't that be hard on all of them if they're separated later?" Nyota asked in hushed tones.

"Why would they be separated?"

Nyota's nose wrinkled in puzzlement. "Are you going to let her keep them?"

"A final decision has not been made; however, there is, at this time, a ninety-four percent probability they will remain together. My father has already stated his willingness to take full custody of Tasmeen, once he is settled on either New Vulcan or at the Nevada colony. Further, he has had sehlats in his home before. We have been unsuccessful in our efforts to locate anyone related to Pa'shu's former caretakers, and Tasmeen has shown a desire to care for the animals. It is logical to assume, therefore, that the child and sehlats will remain together."

"Sarek is willing to take them all in: Tasmeen, the sehlats — and his children by the plak-tau women?" Nyota asked, knowing it was an obvious and clumsy segue into a conversation about his earlier exchange with T'Liik. However, the sooner she could get Spock talking about the plak-tau women, the sooner she could figure out what he needed, and how she could help him.

He did not take the question well: his features went flat and he stepped away from her, putting the length of the room between them and his back to the wall as though he were bracing himself. Obviously, he wasn't ready to speak on that issue, and Nyota didn't press him for an answer. Instead, she sat on the end of his bed, waiting for him to speak. She promised herself she would accept whatever he said.

His dark eyes shifted from her to the floor and then back again. "My father was bred to two females during his chemically-induced plak-tau. According to my research, one was impregnated."

Nyota nodded, acknowledging his need to approach the topic of his own plak-tau women indirectly.

Spock continued, "The pregnant woman, T'Makh, contacted him and asked to be transported to the Nevada Colony on Earth, but my father was concerned that the journey would be harmful to her, so she is lying-in at the Medical Facility on New Vulcan. He relayed this information to the Federation Science Bureau and the Federation Council in the hopes they might intervene on behalf of the plak-tau women, but they were stymied by the Vulcan ministry. Things may change within the next few days, however, as the sects vying for seats on the new council arrive on New Vulcan, and the final trappings of the old ministry are abolished..."

"And T'Makh is one of the people you'd like to speak to when we get to the planet?"

"Yes." Spock looked directly at her. "Does that displease you?"

"No," Nyota answered truthfully. "I can understand your need to figure out how she fits into your life now; if she fits into your life."

"Yes," said Spock, relaxing a bit. He sat with her on the foot of the bed with his hands in his lap, which indicated that he still wasn't willing to share everything he was feeling. Nevertheless, he went on, "The Ek'tevan Prerogative did far more than make breeding stock of the fertile males of Vulcan; it disfigured our entire concept of skann, (3) and created a system of odd, ill-fitting relationships that have never before existed. T'Makh, for example, may be considered my stepmother, although she never married my father, and I know nothing about her or her kin. The child she carries is my father's, but the paternal rights to it currently belong to the State, and not to him, and therefore a legal barrier exists between them. Further, her child is my sibling, but not a sibling under the law; a stranger and yet more than a stranger."

"Yeah, the preceding Council has a lot to answer for... I think Dr. Surrey referred to their actions as a 'knee-jerk reaction' —"

"— Equating it with the events on Tarsus IV. Yes, I remember reading that in the transcript from the meeting in Medical Conference Room One."

Nyota blinked at him, amazed, even after all her time with him, by his mental acuity. _Of course, he had turned to the meeting transcripts and not the visual recordings of them!_ she thought. As a class-ten speed reader, he could whiz through the printed dialog in a fraction of the time it would take him to listen to it; and, for the short term anyway, he could retain over ninety percent of what he read. She'd seen him display this facility on two other occasions; once during a disciplinary hearing at the Academy, and then again when he was called upon to substitute for a speaker at a symposium on transworld etiquette after the speaker fell ill.

"Oooo, as I recall," she said biting her lower lip, as she remember the conference in MCR One. "I think I lost it a couple times during that meeting."

"You were rather demonstrative, yes. Considering the circumstances, however, your reactions were not wholly unexpected... for a Human."

"So, you don't mind having a screaming Human girlfriend?"

"It seemed more akin to a short outburst of charged emotion than outright screaming," Spock corrected her. "And you are more to me than simply a 'girlfriend'... "

Nyota lifted her hand to touch him, and then reconsidered. She pursed her lips and admitted, "I don't know what to do to help you. Part of me tells me to hold you, and part of me tells me to give you space."

"That may be because you are reading me correctly," Spock said. He looked at his hands, breathing through an onslaught of emotions and physical reactions. "It had been my hope that we would form a family: you and I, and the offspring of our blood." His eyes met hers as he continued, "When I saw those women on the viewscreen, I thought of the words of Surak: _Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh_.(4) However, in that moment, when faced with the reality of T'Liik and the others, I wanted to think only of the few, not the many; not when we are the few, k'diwa. I wanted to think only of us. But I also felt compelled to do what is best for the plak-tau women, their offspring, and the Vulcan people. Although a part of me thinks only of you, the part of me connected to the k'war'ma'khon reaches out to the whole, and, by doing so, pulls me away from you." He shook his head. "I am at the center of a crossroads and do not know which course to take."

"Every man of good conscience feels that tug-of-war at one time or another," Nyota assured him. "It's not a failing or a deficit; it's a strength. It proves you have character, and that's what I love about you. You are a man of such courage, intellect and integrity, Spock. It's just, right now... We're... sort of in a bucket of fishhooks, aren't we?"

Spock's eyebrows tugged together, and he tilted his head in thought. "The metaphor seems accurate. Yes," he said. "No matter what we do, it seems we are in a painful tangle. Yet, in order to progress, we must extricate ourselves from it with as little damage as possible. How do you propose we proceed?"

"We pull the fishhooks out one at a time. That's the logical approach, isn't it?"

"Vesht dvel-tor muhl nam-tor nash-veh," he said. (_I have selected well._)

"What do you mean?"

"A woman of both beauty and logic is not often easy to come by."

It was both a compliment and an attempt to lessen the tension and discomfort this conversation was causing him. He wasn't able to admit his feelings yet, but he needed the simple, gentle Human banter in order to relax. Picking up this subtle cue, Nyota crossed her arms and teased, "Excuse me, Commander? Are you calling me 'easy'?"

Spock's eyes smiled slightly even as the rest of his face didn't. "In the sense that you are conducive to relief and comfort, yes, I believe you are. In the sense that you are promiscuous or indiscriminate with your choice of sexual partners..."

" — There had better be a 'no' at the end of that sentence," Nyota warned playfully.

Spock thinned his lips to keep himself from talking. It was such a Human expression that Nyota chuckled – before remembering that Tasmeen was asleep in the next room; she put her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Her lightheartedness had the desired effect: Spock relaxed a degree or two. She stroked his bangs smooth as an excuse to touch him, grateful that he didn't rebuff her. "Are we ready to try removing a fishhook?" she asked softly, willing to accept "no" if that was all he could give her at the moment.

"Not entirely," he said, and his body tightened fractionally. "However, nothing is gained from postponing the inevitable." He took in a deep meditative breath and let it out slowly, calming his body and centering his mind. He then placed his palm against hers, letting her feel the scintillating prickle of his mixed emotions. He didn't share everything, not wanting to burden her, but he did let her feel some of what he was holding inside.

"Do you feel the confusion?" he asked.

"Yes..."

"I am stanch in my desire to remain faithful to you, k'diwa. Nonetheless, in the face of their unease and pain, I find it difficult to ignore T'Liik and the others. As one of the last remaining Vulcan males, I am compelled by the k'war'ma'khon to protect them, to address their concerns and see to their comfort. These two impulses seem in diametric opposition, and I am unsure how to proceed. Tell me what to do."

The earnest request brought tears to Nyota's eyes. Spock had never asked her so directly for help, and the fact he did so now, spoke of his love and confidence in her judgment as nothing had before. She doubted that even a formal bond would have made her feel as connected to him as she did at this moment.

"I have upset you," he broke the palm-touch and stroked her cheek softly with the back of his fingers when her eyes started to glisten.

"No, Spock. The tears aren't from sadness or distress. I'm… I'm just happy you feel you can ask me for support, and trust me to help you."

"If I ever caused you to doubt that, k'diwa, I apologize."

Catching his hand, Nyota kissed each knuckle tenderly. Spock watched her mouth travel slowly down the length of one of his fingers and kiss the sensitive pad. His emotions sizzled softly against her lips like soundless static. "I understand," she said. Nyota lightly massaged his fingers, adding, "I know it is difficult for you to express what you feel for me right now, but I have never doubted your feelings or your fidelity to me. I also understand that in order to get answers to your questions you may have to step away from me and toward others for a while; and I want you to know that's all right with me. I would never ask you to estrange yourself from anyone, especially not from your children or your people. Than ra bolayek-tor, k'diwa. Dungi-nenikau tu eh bek-tor nash-veh." (_Do what is necessary, beloved. I will support and wait for you.)_

"Maut k'hat'n'dlawa tu nam-tor, Nyota-kam," Spock said. (_You are truly half of my heart and soul, Nyota._) He looked away for a moment as a fragment of memory poked at him. Returning his gaze to her, he asked, "We had this discussion before, did we not?"

"Yes. Well, something like it. Do you remember?"

"I remember... your yogurt was melting, but you did not mind; and I remember you saying that you would _'follow my lead'_, which, considering that I have no idea where I am going, may be construed as a rather imprudent decision on your part."

Nyota chuckled at that, and let her body fall softly against Spock's. Her head met his shoulder, and at the connection, he let his cheek rest against her hair.

In the adjoining room, the vivid colors of ineffable trust and devotion infused Tasmeen's mind, stirring her from her sleep. She sat up and looked toward Spock's bedroom, where she heard a woman murmuring, and her skin prickled with the vicarious sensations of affection and contentment. She remembered feeling the same things radiating from her parents' bedroom, when she had been safe, cherished and nurtured on Vulcan, and her lips trembled with the otherwise unrevealed emotions those memories kindled in her.

Beside her, G'by rolled over and whined quietly. She placed her hand on his tiny furred head and whispered, "Ptha-fam nam-tor sehlat. La nam-tor nash-veh; shar nam-tor du," unaware that she was speaking the words out loud. (5)

* * *

The next morning brought a flurry of action aboard the _Enterprise_ as everyone scrambled to finish the MAGGIes, inventory the last of the supplies, prepare the modular bivouacs for transport, and finalize the away-team rosters and personnel schedules. They were little more than a day away from New Vulcan, and Captain Kirk and the other captains coordinated such things as the order of arrival, and projected which orbital patterns would facilitate the transport of the medical equipment to the planet while allowing the _Enterprise_ to act as a protective bulwark for the other vessels.

"Are you anticipating trouble?" Captain Bryan of the _Merton_ asked.

"Not particularly," Kirk admitted. "But... better safe than sorry."

"I hear that - "

Nyota channeled communications between the medical frigates and the planet, while Spock split his time between his bridge duties, seeing to the needs of the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation, and a request from Dr. McCoy to assist him with scans of New Vulcan.

"For what, precisely, am I scanning, Doctor McCoy?" Spock asked again from his Science Station on the bridge.

"I'm not sure, but I'll know it when I see it." Spock gave him a flat look, and in his command chair, Kirk smiled and shook his head. "You know better than that, Bones."

McCoy turned to him, and said in a defensive tone, "We're trying to discover if there are any environmental factors that might have played a part in the difficult pregnancies of the plak-tau women; something the Vulcans might have missed." He looked back at Spock, "I need you to look for any trace pathogens in the ground or atmosphere, any odd electromagnetic fields, gravity wells, time or space vortices, anomalous radiation, solar flares, poisons, spores, biochemical gases or anything like that. I'm not interested in rehashing the obvious, Spock; I want you to look for the atypical stuff, the heteromorphic stuff, the rare stuff. Hell, even look at the preternatural stuff, if you think it might be relevant."

"That is a great deal of 'stuff', Doctor."

"The proverbial needle in a haystack; yeah, I know. But I figured we should look for anything and everything one more time before we make our final recommendations to the Vulcan Medical Facility."

"And you waited until today to do that?"

"Better late than never."

"That statement is imprecise. Procrastination is —"

"— Like masturbation; you're only screwing yourself.(6) Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before."

Several on the bridge, including Captain Kirk, sniggered at that remark.

"That is not at all what I was going to say, Doctor," Spock said, arching his eyebrows and giving Kirk a disapproving look.

The captain cleared his throat and tugged the grin off his face. "Of course not, Commander," he said, feigning composure.

Spock continued to McCoy, "I was going to say: procrastination is the antithesis of the investigatory process. The longer one waits to collect evidence, the more likely it is the evidence will be lost, or corrupted and thereby rendered unreliable. Monopolizing the ship's scanners and computers on what is conceivably a futile exercise is both wasteful and illogical."

"Look, Spock, I'm not asking you to rewrite the Encyclopedia Vulcanica (7); I'm just asking you to do a couple of extra scans."

"Without more specific parameters my search may be indefinite."

McCoy gave out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Help me out here, Jim."

Kirk knew his First Officer wasn't averse to the extra work; quite the contrary, Spock was a glutton for extra duties. However, the captain also knew that, as a species, Vulcans didn't like to squander their time or energy on futile activities. Spock scrupulously conserved and recycled resources, and apportioned his time based on a well-planned predetermined set of goals and deadlines. He had never missed a target date, and had never allowed a task to go unfinished — even when the task wasn't specifically assigned to him. Spock was a man of precision, and McCoy's request was extremely imprecise. "How about doing a handful of deep scans for a few hours, Mister Spock?" the captain suggested as a compromise. "I'm sure Mister Chekhov would be more than happy to pick up some of the Science Station duties while you're looking for Dr. McCoy's _'proverbial needle'_."

Spock quickly considered the idea. "Three hours. Will that be sufficient?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me," Kirk answered. "Bones?"

"Sure. Great. Fine," McCoy said, but as he walked off the bridge, he muttered something about "of all the green-blooded, mule-headed Vulcans…"

Exactly one-hundred and eighty minutes after beginning Dr. McCoy's scans, Spock accumulated his findings and forwarded them to the medical database for a comparative analysis with the medical records of the pregnant women aboard the _Enterprise,_ and then returned his attention to his other duties.

* * *

Sa'aat left the still-cloaked _Haulat,_ and its stasis chamber cargo, outside of Svitan'Kahr and walked into the city. He, along with Sionak and two of his other guardsmen, were meeting the Triumvirate in the Cathedral. He had not intended to have an audience with them, but Sionak had said they were anxious to speak with him. If nothing else, the opportunity would allow him to inspect the premises again.

He immediately noticed the lack of pedestrian traffic on the main street. It was early, so the heat wasn't keeping the inhabitants indoors. He suspected many females were in accouchement because of their pregnancies, and since there were far fewer Vulcan males than females, the dearth of male pedestrians was not surprising. Nonetheless, his k'a'sum'i training urged him to be vigilant. He set his mind out around him, like a bubble or force field, to alert him whenever someone or something touched or entered its sphere. With this field in place, Sa'aat knew the judicial intern, Ste've, was going to greet him at the Cathedral door before Ste've stepped out to meet him.

Sa'aat felt the younger man's surprise burst around him like a wave of magnetic energy, even as Ste've fought to contain his emotions behind a mask of well-practiced poise and formality. As the intern escorted Sa'aat and his men toward an anteroom inside the Cathedral, Sa'aat said plainly, "I am not what you expected."

"You are not a complete surprise," the intern answered, trying to echo the flat affect of Sa'aat's voice somewhat unsuccessfully, "Your reputation does precede you. However, the descriptions of you are somewhat... inexact, and rather unflattering."

"Oh?"

"Given the intelligence gathered on you by the Triumvirate, and the information passed on to us from the former Ministers, I suppose I expected you to be an unsightly, forbidding, weatherworn drifter, a being of mythical proportion, the Gas'rak El'ru T'Reah.(8) But you are presentable and personable, and only a Vulcan, like myself."

From behind Sa'aat, Sionak made a small, but very un-Vulcan noise, somewhat between a snort and a snicker, and Sa'aat said, "My klashausu (9) seems to disagree with you."

Ste've glanced over his shoulder at Sionak, challenging him, "He is a Vulcan, is he not?"

"That would seem apparent, ne-lan (10) Ste've," Sionak answered in his rumbling baritone. "It is from the term 'only' that our dissent arises."

"Are you saying he is more than a Vulcan?"

"I am saying he is more than many Vulcans. A fact you should keep in mind throughout every encounter with him; underestimating Sa'aat has lead to the non-success and sudden demise of many."

Ste've turned his attention back to Sa'aat, who continued down the corridor without looking at him. "Then, if you are not the Right Hand of Reah, you may at least be her index finger." The statement was both a concession and flattery, but Sa'aat did not respond to it. Instead, he focused his attention on the corridors, the number of doors they passed and the personnel they encountered: mostly clerks and construction workers.

Sa'aat paused at the open doorway of the Cathedral's Formal Chamber and observed the last minute construction going on inside. Originally, the room had been arranged like a king's court, with a large dais in the front for the ministers, a broad empty floor space for participants, witnesses, and bystanders, and a small seating area for lesser guests in the back. Now it was laid out like a theater, the dais and small seating area replaced by stepped-seats rising in a circle around the tables in the center of the floor. The first six rows were set in groups of thirteen, with a shallow table and single chair at the head of each group, and the other twelve seats lined up, two-by-two, behind it. Individual groups were distinguished from the others by a color key: this group crimson, that group dark green, another group yellow, amber, purple, and so on, until the center looked like it was girdled in a thick multihued ribbon. Beyond the colored seats were rows of charcoal grey chairs, set up to accommodate a large audience of citizens and guests; and beyond those, was a flat landing with security stations by the doors. This reorganization meant Sa'aat would have to make minor adjustments to the deployment of his own security personnel during the Council meeting, but otherwise did not interfere with his plans.

"It is hoped that the arrangement conveys a sense of unity and cooperation among the entire gamut of Vulcan sects and clans," Ste've said, catching up to Sa'aat in the doorway. "The tinted chairs caused some difficulties, however."

"In what regard?" asked Sa'aat.

"Squabbling has arisen between some of the more... emotionally motivated sects," Ste've said. "Some claim the pigments are too Earth-like, and more Vulcan-like colors (11) should be substituted for them. Others perceive a hierarchal significance to the colors; claiming the red chairs, with a wavelength of 700 nanometers on the spectrum, for example, could be seen as more significant or higher-ranking than the yellow chairs with a wavelength of 570 nanometers. Now, the colored chairs are being re-upholstered with white coverings so there can be no argument."

"—A very diplomatic solution."

"Yes, but one arising from an illogical and selfishly motivated problem. We had not anticipated such a vitriolic reaction to something as wholly insignificant as the décor."

"You are young, ne-lan Ste've," Sa'aat told him as he started down the corridor again.

Ste've hustled to catch up with him and put himself back in the lead. "What does my age have to do with anything?" he asked.

"As you grow older, and hopefully gain more wisdom, you will learn that in politics and diplomacy, nothing is insignificant, and everything must be anticipated. A seasoned diplomat is seldom caught off guard, and makes every effort to take into account those adverse perceptions which may arise within any diverse culture."

"Vulcan culture has never been diverse; we are one people."

"That is inaccurate. Vulcan culture has always been heterogeneous; its diversity gave rise to not only the Syrrannite Vulcans, but to the ancient Romulans, Watraii and the V'tosh ka'tur."

"The banished and the denied." Ste've made little effort to shield his distaste, obviously trying to impress his elder by professing his belief in the supremacy of Vulcan traditionalism.

Sa'aat stopped and looked the younger man in the eye. "Your bias is as unattractive as it is counterproductive. At this time, when our race is on the razor's edge of extinction, we cannot allow ourselves to be influenced or befuddled by provincialism. We are an endangered species; every Vulcan, regardless of belief or affiliation, is now a rarity and therefore must be cherished and preserved. You would do well to remember that."

Ste've acknowledged his misstep and the unintentional insult to Sa'aat by bowing his head. He lifted his eyes from beneath thin, upswept brows and ventured quietly, "Perhaps, osu, you have missed your calling. I suspect you might make a better ambassador and teacher, than an assassin."

Sa'aat cocked an eyebrow and said frankly, "You have never seen me kill," before continuing down the hallway, his men behind him, temporarily leaving a stunned Ste've to stand alone.

* * *

When Spock and Lieutenant Uhura arrived for the first of their joint sessions, Dr. Surrey was sitting on the edge of his desk, deliberately leaving the doorway and paths to the furniture in the room unblocked so he could observe how the two entered and situated themselves in the room. Over his Federation-issue black t-shirt and slacks he wore a rumpled, unbuttoned, short-sleeve shirt decorated with a bright pattern of vivid orange and yellow pineapples against a light blue field. When, from the doorway, Spock looked the shirt over, the doctor explained, "It's Hawaiian Day."

"I do not recall such an event listed on the ship's calendar."

"Well, it's kind of a personal holiday."

"I see." Spock glanced around the office, making sure the room was free of hazards before standing aside and allowing Nyota to enter first: a courtly gesture that displayed his cultural reverence for females in general; however, the fact that his eyes lingered on her as she walked past him also broadcast his affection for her in particular. Surrey noted that Spock also preened for her, absently smoothing his hair - which certainly didn't need the attention - to highlight his long skull, and consequently, his prodigious brain; and tugging down the hem of his over-shirt, an action that briefly accentuated the flat masculine planes of his chest. The doctor knew that Vulcan males often made these kinds of covert displays to females they found desirable, but it was the first time he had ever witnessed one.

When Nyota looked for a place to sit, Spock insinuated himself between her and the chairs, making the sofa, the piece of furniture that would allow him to sit next to her, more accessible to her. And once she was seated, he sat on the sofa's edge and faced her with the majority of his body, their knees touching. The position was both attentive and protective.

"What would you like to talk about today, Mister Spock?" Surrey had heard about the transmission from the plak-tau women, and although it was probably foremost in Spock's mind, he wanted Spock to feel as if he had some control over their discussions.

"Lieutenant Uhura and I spoke last evening about our relationship and I believe we are, as Humans say, _'on the same page'_ in regards to that issue," Spock answered.

The doctor had to smile at the Vulcan's use of his lover's rank and surname. Spock obviously expected Surrey to do the same, not only out of respect for her position as a part of the ship's command crew, but also as a way of establishing a claim; Spock was telling the doctor, _No one may call her 'Nyota' but me, _without actually saying the words. Surrey supposed that many in Vulcan society believed Spock had chosen a Human female over a Vulcan, verbally and physically engaging with her in front of others, for no other reason than to willfully display his proclivity toward rebelliousness. As a firm believer in the idiom, _the body is incapable of lying_, however, the doctor could tell from Spock's interactions with Nyota that defying his elders was not his motivation. His love and respect for the woman was obvious in almost every gesture. Considering everything Spock had gone through, Surrey was glad and somewhat surprised that the Vulcan's connection to Nyota had apparently survived it all.

Surrey turned to Nyota and asked, "Do you feel the same way, Lieutenant Uhura?" He noticed that she seldom took her eyes off Spock, watching his features for hints of expression that might escape his otherwise stoic façade, and that her body stilled whenever Spock was speaking, indicating he had her full attention; that even her inner dialogs, and Dr. Surrey's colorful attire, wasn't going to distract her from him. She'd also positioned her left hand on the cushion in a way that offered touch without demanding it, demonstrating that she understood his touch-telepathic culture's custom of keeping one's hands to oneself unless invited to do otherwise.

She smiled and answered, "Yes, I think we're square for right now."

"Wonderful." Surrey turned back to Spock. "So, what's on the agenda this afternoon?"

"I would like your advice on how I might approach and interact with the women of my plak-tau."

* * *

"Fa'Kahr-Lan (12) Sa'aat and his associates have arrived," Ste've announced to the members of the Triumvirate as he entered the antechamber, with Sa'aat and his small entourage behind him. T'Lale and T'Yelas were standing across the room by a narrow window that looked toward the humped back of the nearby Medical facility. They had previously been seated, but had gone to the window when word came to them that Sa'aat had entered the city; they had been hoping to catch a glimpse of him before they met him face-to-face. Somehow, however, his route had carefully evaded that side of the building. Both turned at the sound of Ste've's voice, and their eyes immediately started appraising Sa'aat.

As Ste've exited the room and closed the doors, Stenn, the twins' elderly co-council, rose from his chair at a table that was littered with PADDs and a few ancient texts he had undoubtedly rescued from Vulcan. Sa'aat returned the older man's salute, before focusing his attention on the women. He recognized them, of course, from the photographs he had found during his research, however, the plak-tau drug had ripped all the other details of them from his memory. Although he did not find them sexually attractive, he appreciated their twin beauty on an aesthetic level. Their identical features were fine, with delicate eyebrows and small, shapely ears. Their long, graceful necks lead to slender shoulders and bosoms enriched by pregnancy. They both wore satiny, floor-length maternity dresses, one in deep purple, the other in deep green, with matching straps and matching slippers.

T'Lale, in the purple, stepped forward first, asked, "Are we so formidable, fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat, that you felt it necessary to bring sentinels with you?" It was a polite jest, and Sa'aat took it as such.

"Prudence dictates, madam, that I fortify my position. When last we met, you quite obviously -" He indicated her pregnant belly. "- were able to surmount my defenses."

"Is charm part of your arsenal?" asked T'Yelas, in the green, from the window.

"A very small part," Sa'aat admitted. "I fear I do not have much time to practice the social graces."

"Perhaps, we can remedy that."

"Yes," said T'Lale. "Perhaps we can convince the fa'Kahr-Lan to remain in the city, and assist us as we work to forge the next ruling Council of New Vulcan."

"All in due time," said Stenn, physically putting himself between the women and Sa'aat, like a dutiful chaperone with a pair of winsome charges.

The faintest of smiles tugged at Sa'aat's lips; the old mystic had nothing to fear from him. He wasn't interested in a position on the council, and as sa-ka-ashausu he wasn't particularly interested in the women either, beyond the fact that they were ripe with his children. He set Stenn's concerns to rest, stating, "I am more interested in the security measures that will be employed when the Federation medical bivouacs are erected, and the sects join for the Council meeting." He extended his hand to Sionak, who handed him a PADD. "My sentinels and I have discovered several weak points in the city's and planetary security systems, and we have several preliminary recommendations for you to consider. More will follow as our research continues." He offered the PADD to Stenn. Both T'Lale and T'Yelas walked up behind the older man to peruse the readouts from over his shoulders.

"This is a prodigious list," Stenn said after a few minutes, "and our resources are limited."

"I understand the dearth of personnel and assets, T'Rehsu Kisau Stenn; however, I do not make these recommendations lightly. The city is vulnerable. The planet is vulnerable. Steps must be taken to ensure the safety and preservation of our people." (13)

"Do you anticipate an attack?" T'Lale asked.

"Vulcan has always had enemies, but enemies who refrained from attacking us outright because of our strength. Although our homeworld was destroyed, those enemies remain; and in our weakened condition, they no longer have cause to fear us. If we are going to be attacked, now would be the most logical time - especially when nearly a tenth of our adult population will be encumbered by childbirth within the next few months."

T'Yelas started, "Surely the Federation will -"

"The Federation will assist us, yes," Sa'aat interrupted her. "But consider, madam: the last time they came to our aid, they lost a half dozen of their best vessels, thousands of their crewmen died, and one of their Admirals was permanently disabled. Another rout like that will leave their forces severely depleted, and their good graces running thin. How much more can we expect them to risk on our behalf? If we are to survive as a species, we must defend ourselves."

"The gaps in the grid," Stenn said, not taking his eyes off the data on the PADD, "would seem to be a priority. Have you tested these calibrations?"

"They work well enough on my own ship. The power generation will have to be heightened, of course, to make the system functional on a planet-wide basis."

"Your ship, yes, the _Haulat_," Stenn said as T'Lale took the PADD from him, and the twins continued to read the data. The older man leaned in toward Sa'aat, "It has formidable weapons, ablative armor..."

"Yes," Sa'aat admitted.

"Can you foresee the Vulcan army equipped with such vessels, such weapons, such armor?"

"The technological aspect is easy enough to emulate, but anything beyond that would require the cooperation of the koko'dan and their Coh'Lie caretakers. And, as you are aware, T'Rehsu Kisau Stenn, the Coh'Lie are not very welcoming of guests within their territorial boundaries."

"Yes. Legends say, no one has stood before a Coh'Lie Manta and survived. But you have been there, and returned to tell the tale."

The twins looked up from the PADD simultaneously, their eyebrows arched with unguarded surprise, and Sa'aat explained to them, "I trespassed, and the Coh'Lie were unpredictably generous. They allowed me to live and return to our sector of space unscathed." He looked back to Stenn, "I would not impose upon that good will again."

"Not even if the survival of your world, and your people, and your offspring required it?" asked T'Lale.

Sa'aat lifted his head slightly so he could look down on her. "That rather obvious attempt to play on my sympathies is beneath you, Lady T'Lale."

She raised her chin, stepping into his personal space. "I am a mother. I will protect my child by whatever means necessary."

"Even at the expense of others?"

"What do you mean?"

Sa'aat put his hands gently on her arms and set her back from him as he said, "The _Haulat_ was a gift, and in this part of the galaxy is little more than an aberration, a curiosity. Alone, it poses no real threat to the status quo, does nothing to tip the balance of power within our sector of space. But consider, madam, possessing an armada of such vessels. An arms race would ensue, as others scrambled to catch up; death and wars would follow as our enemies fought to attain such vessels for themselves. The Coh'Lie's system would be invaded, and the koko'dan enslaved. In response, the Coh'Lie would retaliate. Intergalactic war would follow... all because a mother sought to protect her unborn child. You ask too much." Sa'aat looked back to Stenn. "I will not do it. New Vulcan needs to find its own way, make its own advances, fortify itself with its own technology and its own armaments. We are an ingenious and industrious people. We can defend ourselves without endangering the koko'dan, or plundering the munitions stores of the Coh'Lie."

Stenn nodded. "I find your logic impeccable, fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat," he said. "For one so young, you have remarkable abilities and foresight. Our people could benefit from your return to a more permanent and authoritative capacity. Would you consider accepting a commission?" Before Sa'aat could even think about shaking his head, Stenn added, "To the rank of Solai-Lan?" (14)

It was Sa'aat's turn to look astonished, and Sionak and his men glanced at one another. "There has been no Solai-Lan of the Vulcan army since before the Time of the Awakening," Sionak said.(15) Another of Sa'aat's men added, "It is a commission worthy of you, osu," while the third nodded in agreement.

Sa'aat blinked. "Thank you," he said to Stenn. "It is a proposal deserving of consideration."

As the session continued, Dr. Surrey noted, Uhura sometimes addressed Spock in his native language; not just displaying her fluency in Golic Vulcan, but, on a more intimate level, incorporating brief moments of privacy into the conversation — moments where she and Spock were the only people who understood what was being said — even as they said it in front of their therapist. Although Dr. Surrey would normally disallow such "secrecy" during therapy sessions, he understood Vulcans were far more private than Humans were. Through these confidential respites in the conversation, the lieutenant allowed Spock the opportunity to express himself in a way comfortable for him, before he, or she, would turn to the doctor and translate it all into Federation Standard for him.

_They're quite a pair: Spock and Nyota... er, Lieutenant Uhura_, Dr. Surrey thought to himself. Spock was tall and exotic, while Uhura was petite and lovely by any Human standard; both were intelligent, driven, and passionate; she openly so, he more discretely so. Both were conflicted, worried about the other, and trying to be mature and circumspect in regards to the plak-tau women. Their honesty with him, and with each other, was telling and refreshing. Telling, because it solidified in Surrey's mind their devotion to one another; refreshing, because patients seldom spoke with such candor and clarity about their feelings and what they needed so early in the process.

Spock seemed to be walking an emotional tightrope, wanting to do right by everyone, and unsure how to proceed. Lieutenant Uhura, on the other hand, was caught between her love for the Vulcan, and her anger at the situation that had placed the plak-tau women within her sphere. "I wanted to be the one to look into Spock's eyes the day his first child was born and know that I had given him a gift no one else could," she admitted candidly. "And now these women have stolen that moment from me, from both of us. I feel cheated and pissed off."

Spock extended two fingers, wrapping them around two of Nyota's as a full bond-mate might, offering her not only support, but also a connection to his more composed self to help calm her. She used her free hand to rub her glistening eyes, and looked at Spock again, her expression pained, her shoulders slumping as though she was disappointed in herself. "Please forgive me; I'm having a very Human moment."

He tilted his head and said softly, "You speak your mind. With truthfulness, there is no shame, k'diwa. In this room, all outbursts are acceptable."

Dr. Surrey smiled; he couldn't have said it better himself; and he was glad Spock understood and acknowledged the safety that the doctor's office, and the therapeutic process, provided.

"So, these women... how do we approach them, Doc?" Lieutenant Uhura asked him.

"Well, foremost, be calm. Agitation will only cause everybody more stress. If you have doubts or questions, address them — frankly. No beating around the bush. Vulcans prefer a straightforward approach."

He looked at Spock. "Consider your position carefully. Are you willing to relinquish anything — your commission, your relationships — to accommodate these women? If not, be honest; don't lead them on, but be mindful of their current physical condition. Hormones can make women, even Vulcan women, more sensitive, more reactive. Decide between the two of you what you'd like to achieve. Do you want to play a part in the children's lives? Do you want an on-going connection to the women, or would you prefer to sever your connection with them altogether? Being certain what the two of you want before meeting with them will help you maintain your resolve and give continuity to your presentation.

"Wherever you can, take responsibility, and if there are requests from the women for concessions from you, tell them you need time to discuss these concessions with Lieutenant Uhura first. Not only will this give you more time to consider the ramifications of your decisions, but it will display to the women that Lieutenant Uhura is important to you, and is a permanent fixture they can't ignore..."

"Your advice is sound, Doctor. Thank you," Spock said, cradling Lieutenant Uhura's hand between his.

"Thanks, Doc," she squeezed Spock's hand in return.

The Vulcan's face was placid, seemingly emotionless, but Uhura's eyes revealed the depth of the feelings he was projecting to her: contentment, strength, determination, and commitment. She had worn those feelings on her face when she had first entered the room, however now it was as if her lover had affirmed and fortified them for her.

Surrey understood their love for one another, and he knew returning to New Vulcan would sorely test them yet again. He hoped they would endure as a couple. He could see himself standing as a witness to their bond-mate ceremony someday. He was rooting for their success.

* * *

Sa'aat was unsure when he would have the opportunity to address T'Lale and T'Yelas in private again, so once his discussion about the security issues concluded, he requested a moment alone with the women. Stenn seemed reluctant to leave at first, and flashed a glance at the twins.

"I doubt the fa'Kahr-Lan would act to dispatch us," T'Lale assured the old man.

"I will be outside the door, nevertheless," Stenn said, casting a warning look at Sa'aat. To the women he added, "Call if you require me."

T'Yelas escorted Stenn and the guards out into the corridor, and then closed the door. She remained there, while her sister sat, adjusting the long skirt of her dress around her ankles, which looked rather swollen. "What will become of us?" T'Lale asked bluntly. "Will you take us as bond-mates, Sa'aat, or release us to join with others?"

_That was very direct,_ Sa'aat thought. He answered her, "The decision is yours. I have no claim on either of you. Your destinies are your own."

"What if we wish to cling to you?" T'Yelas asked.

"Precarious," Sa'aat said. "You may find clinging to me is like clinging to a ka-ranj-i; prickly and uncomfortable." (16)

"But stimulating," the woman muttered as she walked across the room to join her sister. At T'Lale's reproachful look, T'Yelas simply smoothed down the front of her dress and took a seat in a chair next to her.

"Forgive my twin's unseemly comment, fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat. I can only deduce that her hormones are causing some imbalance."

"Be that as it may, sister," T'Yelas said, "He is still the best resource and the best protection for our children. Are you not, fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat?"

"I can provide for them and protect them, yes. And I will, if you so desire it," Sa'aat assured her. "But children also require guidance and mentorship, and although an Adept, I have never acted in a paternal capacity before. Further, my citizenship has not yet been reinstated; and I have not yet decided whether I will remain here. Fatherhood may prove to be somewhat difficult under such circumstances."

"But you will accept the children as yours? Provide them your name, your chattel?" T'Lale asked.

"They are of my blood. Paternity will not be an issue, regardless of how the State may define it. Any offspring of mine will retain their rights to inheritance. Although, at the moment, there is little to inherit. I walk with most of my possessions; and the _Haulat_ will return to the Coh'Lie upon my death. How you name these children, will be your decision."

"I am considering calling mine Sa'atik," T'Yelas said. (17)

"An unusual but intriguing choice. It is a male?"

"Yes." T'Yelas shifted toward the edge of her seat and dropped her knees slightly to a position that made her abdomen more accessible. "Would you like to meet him?"

Sa'aat turned slightly to the left, suggesting he was going to reject the invitation, but he then reconsidered and stepped toward the women's chairs. T'Yelas' eyes never left his face as he placed his sensitive fingers on her abdomen. His touch was tentative at first, as he probed for their child. Then he flattened his palm against the taut, drum-like surface of her stomach and connected more fully. Primitive sensations flooded him, and he experienced for a moment how it felt to be unfinished yet alive. When he withdrew his hand, the fetus rolled inside of its mother, trying to face him, to find him again. Sa'aat rubbed the pads of his fingers against his palm as he took a step back.

"You see, even now he seeks direction from you," T'Yelas said to him quietly. "Sanoi. Ugau dungi-hafau t'nash-veh du." (_Please. Promise me you will stay._)

* * *

(1) **Conversation:** again, I don't usually do in-line translations like this, and usually footnote them instead, but because of the length of the sentences here, I put the immediate translations in.

(2) **The Memory:** this was a actually a scene in the 2009 movie, _"Star Trek"_.

(3) **Skann**: the Vulcan word for "Family"; how a family unit is defined.

(4) **Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh**: translated from the Vulcan this means, "_The needs of the Many outweigh the needs of the Few, or the One_." This quote is attributed to Surak in Trek canon, even though Spock (Prime) said it in the Star Trek movie _"The Wrath of Khan"_. Aristotle, the Greek philosopher on Earth (384 BC – 322 BC) once said something similar to this in his discussions about a "higher good" when he wrote, _"The securing of one individual's good is cause for rejoicing, but to secure the good of a nation or of a city-state is nobler and more divine."_ (Aristotle's Nichomachean Ethics, "The Aim of Man") **Author's note: **As the bumper sticker says, _"Everything I know, I learned from Star Trek"._ Hah!

(5) **Ptha-fam nam-tor sehlat. La nam-tor nash-veh; shar nam-tor du**: translated from the Vulcan this means, _"Don't be afraid, sehlat. I am here; you are safe."_

(6) **Procrastination is like masturbation**...: This is an anonymous colloquialism. Another variation of it is, _"Procrastination is like masturbation. It's all good until you realize you're just f-ing yourself."_

(7) **Encyclopedia Vulcanica**: a play on words; in reference to the "_Encyclopedia Britannica_", which is considered one of the most scholarly encyclopedias on Earth

(8) **Gas'rak El'ru T'Reah**: from the Vulcan this translates as, _"The Right Hand of Reah"_. In Vulcan mythology, Reah is the goddess of the Underworld, Death and Bereavement (according to the VLD).

(9) **Klashausu**: the Vulcan word for "guard".

(10) **Ne-lan**: the Vulcan word for "_intern_" or "_trainee_"

(11) **Colors:** Vulcans can see into the ultraviolet and infrared parts of the color spectrum that Humans cannot see. Other "Earth colors" (called _solek-kureklar_ in Vulcan) include those colors not readily present on the desert planets of Vulcan and New Vulcan, such as lush greens and bright blues.

(12) **fa'Kahr-Lan**: the Vulcan term for _"former-General"_

(13) **T'Rehsu Kisau**: the Vulcan phrase for "Triumvirate Member"

(14) **Solai-Lan:** the rank of "Field Marshal"; higher than a general, such a rank would put Sa'aat in complete control of the entire army of New Vulcan.

(15) **The Time of the Awakening:** also called "The Reformation", this was the point in Vulcan history, around the 4th century on Earth, when the Vulcans let go of their war-like tendencies and embraced peace.

(16) **Ka-ranj-i:** a Vulcan plant similar to the barrel cactus of Earth

(17) **Sa'atik:** the Vulcan word for "autonomous"; according to the VLD: _of persons; free from external control and constraint in e.g. action and judgment; existing as an independent entity._


	21. Chapter 21

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

Thank you again to my beta FarStrider who does SUCH a fantastic job of honing my writing skills, and keeping me on track and faithful to the characterizations.

As always, the numbers you see throughout the text, like (8), correspond to endnotes that define words and phrases, and give readers more information.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:**

McCoy, standing in a sliver of shade to protect himself from the heat of New Vulcan's mid-morning sun, leaned toward T'Kree, the current head of the Vulcan Medical Academy, and said over the blare of construction, "Thanks! I appreciate it," as he accepted the small, hard-shelled satchel holding samples of the plak-tau drug in cryostasis. He could have had the case beamed to the _Enterprise_, but he didn't want the samples 'altered' or 'disrupted' by the transporter, so he'd flown with a second-shift engineering crew to the planet's surface, to pick the drug up himself. The trip also gave McCoy the opportunity to meet some of the Vulcan medical staff before the next day's ship-to-shore conffab, and to see how the construction of the bivouacs was progressing. He was anxious to get his equipment and personnel situated and ready for patients.

The semicircle of bivouacs, which had been rising in the desert outside the main city since just before dawn, was nearly finished, despite the fact the Humans had struggled against the planet's thin atmosphere, arid heat and higher gravity. Engineers, exhausted and sweat-stained after only a few hours' exertion, had unpacked and grappled with the units' prefabricated pieces, assembling them into a vast beehive of interconnected MHUs (1), generator stations and hygienic force-field inducers. Vulcan engineers and construction workers had stepped in to take over the heavier tasks when it became obvious that the Humans were fading quickly. The Ionians seemed to relish the environment and were eager to step in, too, but the heat proved too much for many of the Denobulan workers, who promised to be of more help inside the bivouacs once they were completed.

The MHUs, beige geodesic domes large enough to accommodate one-hundred patients comfortably, shouldered their kin. According to Scotty, the units, which were being used for outpatient care, emergency intakes, and triage, could be easily cannibalized and converted into avant-garde intensive care units and surgery suites if needed, to support the Medical Bays on the frigates and the _Enterprise_.

All of the ships would remain in orbit until the plak-tau women were wholly stabilized and had given birth to their offspring; a mission which could take as much as two months or more, depending on whether or not the women were able to bring their fetuses to full term. The medical frigates would supply and sustain the mobile units on the planet surface, while the _Enterprise_ acted as security. The Vulcans had three Maymora-class (2) combat cruisers at the ready, but they were the last remnants of a larger fleet that had been on the ground and lost forever when the Vulcan homeworld was obliterated. The grand vessels now suffered from a dearth of crewmembers - and torpedoes. With the flagship of the Federation in orbit, it was hoped, any would-be attackers would think twice before mounting an assault on New Vulcan's meager fleet. Dr. McCoy wasn't so much interested in the military aspects of this mission, however; he was concerned with the medical aid the Federation was supplying to New Vulcan.

Earlier estimates had suggested that over a thousand women were having difficult pregnancies, and the MHU's erected so far could more than accommodate them. However, considering Vulcans didn't readily complain about pain or complications, McCoy suspected the number of affected women was nearly double that amount. Over the din of construction, shuttlecrafts flitting overhead and bustling personnel, McCoy bent toward T'Kree again, and shouted, "Do we have firm figures yet?"

"Regarding -?" T'Kree somehow made herself heard over the noise without raising her voice. She was a tall, slender woman, dressed, even in the heat of day, in a full-length dress, with a filmy painted silk wrap tucked around her head and neck. Unlike many of her of-age Vulcan sisters, however, wasn't pregnant. Part of McCoy was glad she had dodged that particular bullet – he didn't wish an unwanted pregnancy on anyone - but another part of him wondered if she had simply failed to conceive, or had somehow escaped the enforced mating altogether.

"Do we know the number of patients we can expect?" he clarified.

"There are over sixteen-hundred females affected; however, not all are willing to consent to medical intervention."

McCoy scowled. "Why wouldn't they? If they're in distress, wouldn't seeking medical attention be the logical thing to do?"

T'Kree interlaced her fingers tightly in front of her. Nyota had once told McCoy this particular gesture often hinted at a Vulcan's discomfort or pique. When the lieutenant had first told him about Vulcan body language, he had dismissed it all as theatrical mumbo-jumbo; but the more he worked with and observed Spock, the more aware of the postures and gestures he became. McCoy now considered every inference. T'Kree apparently wasn't pleased with his questioning; however, she did answer him. "On occasion, during parturiency, a Vulcan female's logic is sometimes overridden by hormonal, psycho-physiological or maternal interference. It is also against the religious beliefs of some to seek medical aid. You will not, for example, find any patients among the Vai Giddas."(3)

"Humans sometimes deal with the same issues," McCoy said, nodding and smiling a bit in understanding.

Ignoring his comment, T'Kree flexed her still interlaced fingers and motioned toward the sample case with both hands - a gesture that asked for information but still indicated she wasn't happy. "What are you expecting to find?"

"About the drug? In all seriousness, I'm not sure."

"Nevertheless, you and the others are questioning our science."

There it was: the cause of her sensitivity. She didn't like the idea that she and her colleagues were being scrutinized, challenged, cross-examined and judged by races she believed were less advanced in the sciences than Vulcans. If he had been in her shoes, he probably would have felt the same way.

Sidling closer to the bivouac in order to stay in the shade as the sun made its way across the New Vulcan sky, McCoy explained diplomatically, "With all due respect, ma'am, some of us are concerned that, in your rush to re-establish your race, something may have been overlooked, albeit unintentionally, by the scientists who developed the drug. We're also concerned that maybe not enough testing was done to ensure its safety or effectiveness."

"We took every precaution," T'Kree insisted, her fingers clenching while her face remained emotionless. "The inducement was sound, distilled from botanical components. It contained no synthetics, no toxins, no additives, no untested herbs or essences. We analyzed the formula thoroughly, purified every element, manufactured it in a sterile environment, and subjected it to thousands of simulations before a single citizen was injected with it. We would not knowingly endanger the fragile Vulcan population with -"

"No one's saying you did anything knowingly or willfully to harm your people, Dr. T'Kree. But as my captain so eloquently put it: we can do everything we're supposed to do and still fail.(4) Medical history is rife with such instances. There are entire encyclopedias dedicated to drugs banned after they were manufactured, tested, approved and patented because it was later discovered there were side effects no one had anticipated; drugs as benign as hair-loss ointments, and medications for arthritic conditions, even vitamins. Sometimes, just handling a drug can cause problems."(5)

"The females never handled the plak-tau inducement."

"Now you're just being nit-picky," McCoy said, wagging his head, his bile starting to rise. "The women might not have put their hands into vats of the medication, but you have to admit they could have absorbed it through their skin, their mucus membranes, hell, even through the males' breath once you locked them in that medical arena and let them go at each other like - "

"No one has yet found any empirical data supporting the contention there is a categorical link between the drug and the females' current symptoms."

McCoy shook his head and willed himself not to snort in disdain. "Then what do you think caused these problems, ma'am? Hexes and hoodoo?"

"Those references are meaningless to me."

"Look, I'm just saying, as a scientist, you know as well as I do that sometimes... well, shit happens."

T'Kree gave him a disapproving look out of the side of her eye, and crossed her arms. Even if he'd never studied Vulcan body language, McCoy would recognize that posture: she was finished talking to him about this subject.

"Och, no, no, no!" came Scotty's voice from somewhere over the doctor's head. "You've got the inhibitors on the wrong side, Garret. Right! Right! No, to your right! No, your other right!"

McCoy stepped away from the unit and looked at the domed roof, shading his eyes against the sun's glare with a hand. "Problems, Scotty?"

Stripped down to his trousers and boots, with his Red-shirt tied around his waist, and his skin going ruddy with sunburn, the Chief Engineer stepped gingerly across the roof and looked down at McCoy and T'Kree. "Nothin' I can't handle, Doctor," he mopped his brow with a black undershirt he had wadded up on his hand. "Just a wee bit of bother. It seems a few of my engineers apparently woke up this morning one sheep shy of an orgy, is all."

McCoy laughed. "Give 'em a break, Scotty. It's like a hundred-and-twenty degrees out here; maybe their synapses are melting."

Something crashed over and rolled down the other side of the dome, and Scotty turned toward the noise as one of the engineers said, "Sorry, Mister Scott. It just kind of got away from me."

"Och, Ensign Garret, you're the flower of my life, I swear -" Scotty said, storming back across the roof grumbling, "- you bloomin' idiot," under his breath.

Still chuckling, McCoy stepped back into the shade. After a few silent seconds, T'Kree cocked her eyebrow, "_'__O__ne sheep shy of an orgy'_?"

The doctor laughed again, explaining, "It's a euphemism; it means dim-witted or stupid. Like, _'a few stem-bolts short of a load' _or _'not firing on all thrusters'_..."

"And Humans often use such vivid, yet imprecise and disparaging language with one another?"

"Yeah, when we're frustrated or pissed off we do. It's all good-natured; no one really takes offense to it. According to Earth's psychiatric community, that kind of language is actually a much-underappreciated anger management technique. You Vulcans should try it sometime."

"I find that development highly unlikely," T'Kree said flatly. She straightened the ends of the silk wrap around her head and said, "Excuse me," before walking off toward the city.

"Excuse me," McCoy muttered to her retreating back. He flipped open his communicator with his free hand. "McCoy to _Enterprise_."

"_Enterprise_, Kirk here."

"They've got you answering the phone, Jim?"

"Nah, I was just closest to the console. What can I do for you, Bones?"

"A ride back up there would be nice."

"You could always use the transporter, like a normal person."

"And have my molecules scrambled together with these plak-tau drug samples? No thank you."

McCoy heard the captain step away from the console, then return. "Driscol's team, by MHU One will be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes. If you can make it there fast enough, you can come up with him. Otherwise, it looks like - "

"Another two hours, Captain," Nyota said from her station.

"Two hours," Kirk repeated to McCoy, "before another shuttle is slated to return."

McCoy started walking toward the first bivouac at a fast clip, immediately aware of the planet's gravimetric pull. "I don't suppose you could tell them to hold the wagon for me, Jim? With the heavier gravity here, I feel like I'm walking with fifteen-pound weights attached to my ankles, so it's a little slow-going."

Before the captain could answer, a male voice from between two of the bivouacs said, "Dr. McCoy." McCoy stopped, still holding his communicator near his mouth, and looked toward the sound of the voice. Sa'aat stood there, dressed in light tan desert gear, with thin tendrils of his long hair floating around his shoulders like black dragonflies in the light, parched breeze. "Perhaps, I may be of assistance."

To his communicator, McCoy said, "Never mind the call to Driscol, Jim. I think I've found a more interesting ride. McCoy, out."

* * *

Spock stood with his hands behind his back and his head slightly bowed beside his father as the turbolift whisked them toward the main Transporter Room. He was aware of Sarek's glances, but didn't meet his eyes. There was much he wished to discuss with Sarek – including his recovery from the Katau Fa'ark, the reclamation of Amanda's katra and the plak-tau women. Nonetheless, speaking to his father about personal issues had always been rather difficult for him. Though he didn't doubt Sarek's paternal affection for him, Spock often felt he was a disappointment to his father; he believed admitting his emotionalism and confusion now might further lessen his father's opinion of him. Time and privacy were also obstacles to any deep discussions between them - no matter how hard they had attempted to coordinate their schedules, their efforts had been thwarted. Sarek's ambassadorial obligations and meetings with the members of the Fonn Vuhlkansu, and Spock's Starfleet duties, sessions with Dr. Surrey and other commitments, consumed their time. These few moments in the turbolift were the first they had been alone together all day; however, the Triumvirate was beaming aboard the _Enterprise_, and Spock and Sarek were going to meet them.

Without facing Spock, Sarek took the initiative and broke the silence between them. "You are disquiet."

"There is much which occupies my mind, Father."

"You have always shown a proclivity toward impatience, especially when it comes to matters of the Self." Spock looked at the floor. Sarek faced his son and remained silent until Spock met his eyes. "Spock," he said quietly, choosing his words judiciously. "There is, in all things, a prescribed order of precedence. Na'kanok-vei pon heh svi'pon kanok-vei."(6)

"Yes, Father," Spock said, not so much agreeing with the statement as acknowledging that he was listening.

"Resolution to any uneasiness comes in due course, but only with forbearance. Meditation will facilitate this."

Spock winced internally. "I have attempted that, Father, but s'thaupi seems beyond my grasp at present." _Another failure._

"The 'beyond state' is achieved through clarity and inner focus," Sarek said as the turbolift door opened. He stepped into the corridor and Spock followed. "I accept, given your circumstances of late, you may be experiencing a unique combination of emotional impulses: confusion, frustration and anxiety. But these are temporary hindrances, Spock, brought on by fatigue and disorientation in the wake of your shariv t'kae and the Katau Fa'ark. You must not allow yourself to become discouraged. Be patient. You will find your center again."

"Yes, Father," Spock repeated, not sounding entirely convinced.

Sarek continued down the corridor with Spock a dutiful step or two behind him. However, when Sarek suggested, "In times of inner disquiet, a bondmate may also be of some support," Spock came to a standstill.

Sarek turned, catching a fleeting glimpse of the surprise that dashed across his son's face before Spock's Vulcan discipline caught it and set it aside. It was an internal battle Sarek had often witnessed in his son's features, in the eyes that were so much like Amanda's; and he was proud that Spock, even though half Human, was largely successful in harnessing his sometimes overwhelming, roiling emotions. He knew Spock's control came from extreme effort and a conscious force of will, and Sarek felt honored that Spock showed such resolve in mastering his emotional impulses. His son may have chosen not to participate in the Kolinahr, but he still lived the Vulcan Way.(7)

"She is not what I imagined for you when you were a child," Sarek said. "I had always hoped you would find a mate among our people. I believed that if you took a Vulcan wife in the Vulcan tradition, it would solidify your position within our society, making you feel more at one with our race. However, in the face of all that has happened, I have concluded that each of us needs to find our eku-svitan t'shaukaush (8), as Sa'aat would put it, wherever we can. It may not be entirely logical, but it is often true. Your Lieutenant Uhura is determined, driven, and forthright, like you. Intelligent, like you. Spirited, like you; and enduring, like you. I perceive that she loves you; not in a way which seeks to alter who you are in order to meet her emotional needs, but in a way that accepts you for all you are, and revels in that acceptance. To me, it seems more than an adequate match. Therefore, should you desire to bond with her, I would not disapprove."

It was a concession Spock had never expected from Sarek, and his gratitude was genuine. "Thank you, Father," he said, for there was nothing else to say. A more emotional display would have embarrassed them both.

* * *

"I do not want to hear your protestations or judgments." Sa'aat ushered Dr. McCoy into the _Haulat_. "I only want to know what can be done."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so damned evasive, you wouldn't hear any protests from me," McCoy snapped back. "I swear, Sa'aat, getting information from you is like trying to get a straight answer from the Oracle at Delphi."(9)

"Did you bring a medical tricorder?"

"Yeah - always. Why?"

Sa'aat threw him a flat glance over his shoulder before activating the lights that illuminated the ship's interior. McCoy found himself in front of a medical stasis chamber, and he tentatively ran his hands along the length of it. It was on anti-gravity pallets and hovered about ten inches off the floor. When McCoy pushed on it to get a closer look at what was inside, it bobbed like a cork in water. "What the hell am I looking at?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

"T'Cloo."

"The woman who went missing after Spock's plak-tau?"

"Yes."

"I thought you said she was dead."

"She is."

"Then why does she need to be in sta-?" Before he could finish the word, McCoy had his answer. He was looking right at it. T'Cloo's extended abdomen. "Oh, good God! Who's responsible for this?"

"Would it make a difference if you knew?"

"What? Of cour-! Who-!" McCoy sputtered. "My God, man! What's going on?"

"Calm yourself, Doctor."

"I am calm!"

* * *

Spock remained slightly behind Sarek and to his left as the white, whirling streaks of energy over the transporter pads lost their momentum, and five forms materialized in their place: T'Lale and T'Yelas on the anterior pads, flanked by Stenn and Ste've, and Sionak towering behind them.

Sionak was dressed in military-style desert gear; his soft boots were dusty, but otherwise he looked well kept. Even though he was to the rear of the party, he stepped from the platform first, positioning himself between Sarek and the others, defining for everyone where his loyalties lay. Stenn, wearing his gleaming skullcap and an asymmetrical suit with the same three Vulcan symbols, ozhika, sochya, and difan'es (10) running down the right side of his coat as on Sarek's formalwear, stepped down next.

The twins wore matching gowns: T'Lale's gray, and T'Yelas' pastel green; with draping hoods lined in black velvet stemming from the dresses shoulders and framing their faces. T'Lale was holding her right palm to the base of her stomach as though she felt a pain there, but neither her face nor posture revealed any discomfort. Nonetheless, Sarek offered her his arm as she stepped from the pad. Spock did the same for T'Yelas.

Ste've, holding the handle of a hard-bodied attaché case in his left hand, was the last from the transporter platform. His suit mirrored Stenn's, but was ill fitting and without any symbols. He either had borrowed it, or mis-programmed the tailoring specifications into the replicator that produced it. None of the Vulcans addressed either possibility aloud out of respect.

Sarek led the small party from the Transporter Room, with Spock and T'Yelas, still holding his forearm with both hands, falling in behind the others. Sionak brought up the rear. They were stopping first at the Medical Bay, in order to comply with the ship's quarantine protocols, and to get the women fitted with MAGGIes, before heading to the Observation Deck where the members of the Fonn Vuhlkansu were waiting to meet with them.

Along the way, T'Yelas said to Spock, "Sa'aat speaks highly of you."

"Indeed? He is generous, madam."

"He does not strike me as the sort to offer undeserved praise. You must be close."

Declining to admit there were gaps in his memory about his former teacher, Spock said simply, "He has known my family for quite some time."

"I see. You may have some influence with him, then."

"Influence in regard to what, madam?"

"He has been offered the commission of Solai-Lan of the New Vulcan army. Perhaps you can persuade him to accept it."

"He has resisted the appointment?"

"Not openly; but he has yet to give us a decision."

"It is not a commission of little consequence. Deliberation, therefore, seems prudent."

"Perhaps, but the times we live in demand succinct action, Spock. Procrastination is counterproductive."

"With all due respect, Lady T'Yelas," Spock said in an urbane tone as he gestured toward her belly. "Succinct action without deliberation is the crux of your current condition, is it not?"

T'Yelas gave him a look he couldn't quite identify, as though she found him insulting and amusing at the same time. She squeezed his arm and leaned to whisper into his ear, "You are very much your mother's child, Spock."

Unsure how to respond, Spock remained silent.

* * *

Sa'aat activated the readout panels at the foot of the stasis chamber. "These seem to indicate the fetus is in distress, but I do not have the medical expertise required to be certain. Will you check the readings, please?"

Teeth and fists clenched, McCoy looked over the data before pulling out his medical tricorder and scanning the unit and its contents. As his medical training overcame his emotional impulses, his breathing eased, and his body relaxed. After a few minutes, he was able to say in a normal tone, "You're right. He is struggling. The problem originates from the heart - there seems to be some kind of malformation." The doctor looked up from the readings. "Do I want to ask how this procedure was accomplished?"

"Probably not."

"No. I didn't think so."

"Do you agree it is most likely Spock's child?"

"There are Human elements mixed in with the Vulcan," McCoy answered, looking at the output from the scanner again as he spoke. "And the DNA signature has enough alleles in common with Spock to suggest it's his, but - something's off. The fetus doesn't look developed enough to be a far along as it should be if this woman was impregnated during Spock's plak-tau."

"How old do you believe it is?"

"Six months, give or take a week, by the size of it... I'll need to pull some cells to do a regression simulation to be certain of its actual age. Regardless, we're going to have to perform surgery to keep it viable. In utero heart surgery is possible, but tricky, especially on a fetus this small... and working while the mom is still in the chamber will complicate things. I can bring down a medical team as soon as one of the bivouacs is fully stocked."

"Is that the best course of action, Doctor?"

"The fetus will die without medical intervention, so, yes, I think it's the best course of action," McCoy said, his mouth crimped with irritation.

"I was speaking of the issue of treating it here, on the planet's surface."

"Where else would I treat it, in mid air?"

"Consider, Doctor: exposing this stasis chamber to the general populace will undoubtedly instigate a dramatic response, even among Vulcans. There will be dozens of unanswerable questions, philosophical discussions about whether the fetus should be allowed to survive; legal wrangling over custody and medical jurisdiction, ethical inquiries... none of which will benefit the fetus - nor Spock. I suggest a less 'public' handling of this matter would be preferable."

"I know I'm not going to like your answer, but - what do you have in mind?"

"I can fly the chamber, and you, back to the _Enterprise_. You can treat the fetus there."

"Taking this thing aboard the _Enterprise_ will cause just as much hubbub as exposing it to people here. As soon as anybody sees it, we're right back to the dramatic responses and unanswerable questions."

"Not if we beam the unit directly into a private surgery suite, where you will be waiting with a team of discreet medical personnel. None of your other crewmembers need ever see the chamber or its contents."

"I don't like the idea of sneaking around."

"Then propose an alternative."

"I don't have one - and you know it." The doctor wiped some nonexistent dust from the unit's side as a way to displace his anger. He shook his head and then bit the inside of his lower lip. "She doesn't have any family left?"

"Only clan members. However, they believe she is dead, her katra lost. They have grieved and buried the urn in which they assumed were her ashes, in the Mazhiv Solai. This," Sa'aat indicated the stasis chamber, "was abandoned by T'Pau. We are its only caretakers. We must act to preserve the fetus, while sparing Spock and T'Cloo's kinsmen the knowledge of the horror and indignity to which she was subjected. You must admit, McCoy, my way is best for all concerned."

"Your way is secretive and sucks," McCoy stated frankly. Then he sighed and admitted quietly, "But I can't think of an alternative at the moment, so…Fine. Okay. Let's get this thing to the _Enterprise_ and get the fetus stabilized. We can figure out, after that, what to do next."

* * *

Nurse Chapel, a scanner and two MAGGIes at the ready, smiled in greeting as the Triumvirate members arrived in the Medical Bay for their quarantine screenings. She motioned to one of the biobeds saying, "It'll just take a few moments; you'll be off to your meeting in no time, I promise."

T'Lale, with Sarek walking beside her, stopped abruptly, leaning against the doorframe. She closed her eyes and pitched forward slightly, clutching the sides of her abdomen. Concerned, Christine rushed toward her, as the others offered their hands in assistance.

"Sister -?" T'Yelas stepped away from Spock toward her twin.

"Madam?" asked Ste've.

T'Lale waved them all off. "A moment," she said. "Give me a moment." After two long breaths, she straightened and smoothed down the folds of her dress. With a placid face and calm voice, she explained, "The child clamors for attention. Unfortunately, its current mode of communication is confined to kicking and scratching."

Christine, knowing a fetus had to kick with tremendous force in order to get a Vulcan woman to display discomfort in response, said reassuringly, "Maybe the MAGGIe will quiet him down." She led T'Lale to the biobed and helped her on it. "Here I am saying 'him', and I'm not even sure what your baby's sex is." She ran the scanner over the woman's head and body. "Would you like me to check on the gender for you?"

"There is no need. It is a female."

Christine smiled at her. "Then she's something of a rarity, isn't she? I mean, most of the other women we received charts for are carrying boys. Only about ten-percent are having girls." She ran the scanner over and around T'Lale's abdomen. "Do you have a name picked out yet?"

"No," T'Lale answered.

"Waiting until she's born, so you can see what her personality's like, huh?"

"No."

"What my cryptic sister is not saying," T'Yelas chimed in, "is that usually the father names his children. She is waiting for fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat to name her child - even though he has indicated that we should name our offspring ourselves."

"You're carrying Sa'aat's child?" Christine asked T'Lale.

"We both do," T'Yelas answered, running her palm along the curve of her belly.

Christine blinked, surprised. She knew Sa'aat had allowed himself to be bred to several females in response to the demands of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, but she hadn't known, until this moment, the identity of those females. And what females they were! Twins were rare among Vulcans, and these two were beautiful by any standard. The fact that they had been unopposed when, upon the dismissal of the former Council members, they stepped into their positions as members of the Triumvirate, meant they were influential, high-ranking females in their society. Christine wondered if they had brokered to get Sa'aat as a mate, or if T'Pau and Semuk had simply assigned them to him. She doubted she could get much gossip from T'Lale, who seemed to be more mature than her sibling was; but Christine might be able to ply information from T'Yelas. She looked at T'Yelas and said brightly, "You'll have to tell me all about it later."

* * *

When the _Haulat_ settled into the _Enterprise's_ Shuttle Bay, Sa'aat kept his ship locked for a few minutes in order to confer again with Dr. McCoy. "What do your captain and crew know about this patient?"

"I told the captain I'm beaming aboard a premature infant suffering from complications that can't be treated planetside," McCoy answered, clutching the satchel with the samples of the plak-tau drug with both hands. "He didn't ask for details, so I didn't offer him any... I swear, Sa'aat, I don't know how I let you talk me into this."

"If it makes you feel better," Sa'aat said, pushing the stasis chamber and its generator on their anti-gravity pallets into the small transporter area of the _Haulat_, "you can tell yourself that I manipulated your mind in such a way as to make any disagreement with me impossible."

"How do I know you didn't manipulate my mind?"

"You do not."

"Okay, now, that's not helping - "

Sa'aat secured the chamber so it couldn't shift when the transporter beams engaged. He looked at McCoy. "How much time will you need?"

"Give me about an hour to get my medical team assembled and the surgery suite prepared. I'll signal you when I'm ready."

"Very well." When the doctor lingered beside the transporter pad and continued to gaze at the stasis chamber, Sa'aat asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing," McCoy said, before he admitted, "Second thoughts; that's all. Never mind. Let's do this."

* * *

Spock looked down at the activity in the Shuttle Bay from the large portal windows of the aft Observation Deck. Crewmembers hustled to load medical equipment onto shuttlecrafts, while other craft landed or departed through the bay's open doors. Two force fields acted as an airlock between the bay and the vacuum of space, and as ships penetrated them, the fields shimmered and snapped with bluish-white static. Spock was surprised to find the _Haulat_ in the bay; he had not expected to see Sa'aat again before the Council Meeting on New Vulcan, three days hence, and had assumed his former teacher was busy with security details.

As he watched, Dr. McCoy disembarked from the _Haulat_, holding a sample case and the ship sealed itself shut. McCoy strode across the bay, his path taking him to the door directly below the Observation Deck windows. He glanced up at Spock, his expression inscrutable, before disappearing through the doorway.

From behind Spock, Triumvirate Member Stenn asked, "Will fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat be joining us?"

"I had not anticipated his attendance at this meeting, T'Rehsu Kisau. However," Spock added, turning to face the older man, "as you are aware, Sa'aat tends to come and go as he pleases."

"Yes. He is a man of singular will."

"Yet you offered him a commission to the post of Solai-Lan."

"Indeed. Despite his eccentricities, Sa'aat is a man of decisiveness, ingenuity, bravery, and veracity - and one who has the ability to engender intense loyalty within his regiments. Did you know many of his former soldiers are now his personal guards, and that they have sworn the t'zaled to him? (11) Ahh, yes. We hope he will consent to bringing these attributes and these blood-sworn soldiers into the service of our people. Perhaps you could be of some encouragement in that regard."

Spock frowned slightly, and tilted his head. "You are the second member of your party to make such a request of me. I believe you overestimate my influence on the fa'Kahr-Lan."

"Do we?"

"I assure you, I hold no power over him. I am not in the position to persuade him to do anything."

"What we know of your history with Sa'aat would suggest otherwise," said Stenn, and Spock's scowl deepened imperceptibly. While the members of the Triumvirate, as the highest-ranking Vulcans on their planet at the moment, no doubt had access to a plethora of information, it was disturbing to realize others remembered and knew more about his past connection with Sa'aat than he did. Stenn continued, "However, I concede to your interpretation. Perhaps there are circumstances, of which we are not aware, that have compromised your previous association with him. You may, therefore, consider the request vacated, Commander Spock." The older man gave Spock a well-practiced bow before joining the twins at the front of the room.

* * *

Inside the sterilizing force field of one of the Medical Bay's operating rooms, Dr. McCoy and a small surgical team, all dressed in pale green scrubs, gathered around a receiving table adjacent to a cart littered with surgical devices, and a small isolette (12). Mounted on the wall outside the field, yet close enough to be easily seen, a com-link screen displayed the image of Sa'aat at the transporter controls on his ship, the stasis chamber behind him.

"Are you ready?" Sa'aat asked.

McCoy looked to the others around the table: Dr. M'Benga, Nurse Chapel, and two other nurses Christine had chosen from among her staff, and they all nodded. McCoy turned to the screen. "Ready and standing by."

"You will see the transporter beams engage, and precisely three seconds later, your patient will materialize at your location. Then the view screen will go blank and the patient's care will be in your hands. I suggest stepping away from the table during transport. Intraship beaming can be rather treacherous given the limits of the confined space. If my calculations are not precise, the chamber may materialize inside the table - or inside one of you."

"Understood," McCoy said, and he and the others stepped back several paces to give the transporter beam a wide berth.

"Transport in kau... keh... reh... dah... wuh..." (13)

The yellow-gold spray of the _Haulat's_ transporter beam filled the view screen, and seconds later, a thin sparkling streak of the same yellow-gold energy appeared over the receiving table. When the glittering light disbursed, the stasis chamber and its small generator hovered a fraction of an inch over the table before dropping onto it with a metallic *ka-thunk*.

* * *

The aft Observation Deck had been fitted with a large conference table and chairs to accommodate the meeting between the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation and the Triumvirate. Stenn and the twins, now wearing MAGGIes outside their gowns, chose positions at the head of the table - Stenn in the center chair, with T'Lale to his right and T'Yelas to his left - leaving the others to decide where, and in what order, they would be seated.

The Fonn Vuhlkansu delegates waited until Sarek sat down to the right of T'Lale, before seating themselves. Spock took the chair beside his father, and Gilgreni sat next to him. Ste've sat beside T'Yelas, in a position too elevated for his rank, but no one complained. As the others - Enteria, K'Rel, Serran, T'Kela, Sol't'gol, T'Stala, Stilven, T'Zantha and S'Risha - all found places, Sionak commandeered the chair at the end of the table, opposite the Triumvirate. From there, he could keep an eye on everyone in the room, and, at the same time, remain closer to the exit than anyone. Spock noted that there was no chair set aside for Sa'aat, and deduced the former general had indeed not been expected to attend this meeting; Tasmeen was also conspicuously absent, which wasn't surprising, considering her age.

The meeting itself was little more than a formality to allow the Triumvirate to meet the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegates, accept their charter for inclusion in the Council Meeting, and discuss reinstating their Vulcan citizenship; in fact, the Observation Deck had been requisitioned for only ninety minutes. The group's charter wasn't going to be discussed; that would have to wait until the formal conference in the Cathedral, three days from now, when all of the sects would be in attendance. Sarek did most of the speaking for the Fonn Vuhlkansu, introducing the delegates, and handing over the PADD with the sect's charter on it, which Ste've accepted with a reverent bow and placed carefully inside his attaché case before pulling out another PADD and handing it to Stenn.

The older man stood in front of his chair and proclaimed, "I hold in my hand a draft of the proclamation restoring full citizenship to those members of the Fonn Vuhlkansu who renounced it in the face of the Ek'tevan Prerogative. Read it, and put your signature to it if you accept it. If any discussion or alteration of the text is suggested, the Triumvirate is willing to listen and consider your words." He held the PADD out to Sarek.

Sarek accepted the device, skimmed over the information, and promptly turned it face down on the tablein rejection. The other members of the Fonn Vuhlkansu sat back in their chairs, metaphorically distancing themselves from the PADD, and placed their folded hands on the tabletop. They would not budge on the subject until Sarek indicated otherwise.

"Your followers do you a courtesy," T'Lale said, as Stenn retook his seat.

"They do not follow me," Sarek corrected her. "They walk beside me. We are of a single mind on this issue. An unqualified reinstatement of full citizenship is required by us all - and not just for the Fonn Vuhlkansu, but for any Vulcan citizen previously banished from our home world."

Spock looked to his father, hiding his astonishment.

"Absurd," said Stenn. "You would have us reach out to all those who once violated our laws and rejected us?"

"We can but try, T'Rehsu Kisau Stenn. Our race is depleted. Do we have the luxury of clinging to tenants and prejudices that leave us a divided people? Unity ensures survival."

Before Stenn could respond, T'Lale set one of her hands on his in order to calm him, saying to Sarek and the others, "Unity is foremost in our thoughts, I assure you. In light of this, the V'tosh ka'tur have already petitioned for inclusion, and have offered their support to New Vulcan in exchange for reinstatement."

Spock cast another sideways glance at Sarek - the V'tosh ka'tur was the sect to which his half-brother, Sybok, belonged - but his father remained impeccably controlled, saying only, "Indeed. Has their charter been accepted for review at the Council Meeting?"

"Yes."

"Then we are already one step toward a more cohesive nation."

"Nonetheless," said Stenn, extricating his hand from under T'Lale's, "the Triumvirate is unprepared at this time to extend a similar courtesy to any other splinter group or offshoot race."

"I see," said Sarek. "Then we petition the Triumvirate to allow the Fonn Vuhlkansu the opportunity to present the question to the other sects at the Council Meeting. Let amnesty for the banished be put to a vote."

Stenn looked to the twins, who in turn looked to one another. T'Lale nodded first, and T'Yelas reluctantly followed suit. Stenn held out for several minutes, considering the notion in silence. He then held his hand out for the PADD.

Sarek passed it to him, waiting for the older man to take the next action: either rewrite the proclamation, or get up and leave with the PADD. Stenn sat staring at it for several seconds before activating it and tapping in several lines of data. Without remark, he handed the altered decree back to Sarek; and as before, Sarek accepted the device and looked it over.

"Proclamation One," Sarek read aloud. "It is the unanimous decision of the Triumvirate, the temporary acting ruling body of New Vulcan, to hereby, henceforth and enduringly, provide to the members of the Fonn Vuhlkansu Sect, its officers, agents, employees, servants and relations, unqualified reinstatement of citizenship with full powers and rights effective this date..."

Spock's ear immediately caught the words "and relations" in the statement. As the blood-born son of Sarek, the present leader of the Fonn Vuhlkansu, Sybok was now legally afforded the opportunity to return to his people - regardless of whether the V'tosh ka'tur ever sued for citizenship themselves.

"Proclamation Two," Sarek continued. "It is the unanimous decision of the Triumvirate to accept the charter of the Fonn Vuhlkansu Sect for inclusion and consideration at the forthcoming meeting of the Council of New Vulcan delegates... Proclamation Three: it is the unanimous decision of the Triumvirate to add to the agenda of said meeting the petition of the Fonn Vuhlkansu Sect to introduce for discussion the issue of negotiating amnesty for other previously banished individuals, sects, and offshoot races..."

Sarek held the PADD between both hands, then, with his thumb, applied his bio-signature to the decree. The other Fonn Vuhlkansu members moved slightly forward in their chairs, and opened their hands on the tabletop: a collective display of acceptance. Sarek handed the PADD to Spock, who, without hesitation, applied his own signature. When the PADD made its way around the table and returned to Stenn, it contained the signatures of everyone present, including Ste've who added his scrawl as a witness.

"Thank you, delegates," Stenn said. "This has been a productive - and enlightening - session. The Triumvirate looks forward to your continued participation in the legislative process, as we move forward to forge a more permanent governmental authority on New Vulcan."

The meeting adjourned without ceremony, and the participants filed into the corridor. Spock observed Sa'aat waiting there, leaning against the wall by the door, his legs crossed loosely, his shoulder to the bulkhead. He straightened as the group left the Observation Deck. Sarek, with T'Lale and Stenn beside him, walked by without comment, but T'Yelas extended her hand, brushing her fingerstips across his arm as she passed him.

Spock's eyebrows tweaked at the blatant contact, and Sa'aat explained softly, "She is vexed by hormonal imbalances caused by her pregnancy."

"I see," Spock replied as the rest of the delegation headed down connecting corridors, toward their quarters, the mess hall, and other destinations.

"All went well at the meeting, I take it."

"We are citizens again."

"As simple as that? How curious. One would think the Traditionalists would have made our reinstatement more of a challenge."

"They seemed eager for cooperation and unity. They are even accepting a charter from the V'tosh ka'tur."

"Really? Then you may be reunited with Sybok, after all."

Ignoring the reference to his previous hallucinatory encounters with his half-brother, Spock acknowledged, "That is a possibility."

Ste've exited the room last. He glanced at Spock, and then gave Sa'aat a departing bow that was too deep and too lingering. After several seconds of the display, Sa'aat leaned over and whispered to him, "I am not a sa-te'kru, Ste've. Such a demonstration is unwarranted."(14)

Ste've stood up straight. "Yes, osu," he said without raising his eyes to meet Sa'aat's. He turned on his heel, hastening down the corridor, and fell into stride behind T'Yelas. His posture denoted some embarrassment and disappointment, and he flashed a fleeting look back at Sa'aat before rounding a corner that took him out of sight.

"I believe he is attracted to you," Spock said.

"Yes. It is youthful infatuation. He finds me intriguing, dangerous."

Curiosity about the Triumvirate members' assumptions about his past relationship to the fa'Kahr-Lan drove Spock to ask, "Did I once find you thus?"

Sa'aat studied his eyes for a moment. "Briefly. When we first met. I was your Osavensular T'Guv (15), and you were - uninitiated; sex was new to you." Knowing the shariv t'kae had fractured Spock's memories, Sa'aat could have told him anything, but his posture indicated that he was telling the truth. Sa'aat gestured toward the hallway silently asking Spock to take the lead.

As they continued, Spock asked frankly, "We were intimate?"

"Within the confines of my duty to you, yes. My lessons were - comprehensive. I facilitated a cascade of emotions and sensations you had never experienced before, but none that rose to the level of love or infatuation." Sa'aat tilted his head slightly in companionable jest, adding, "Of course, I was not the formidable and fearsome creature I am today."

"Ah," Spock nodded, feigning assent. Approaching a turbolift, he said, "I have thirty-eight minutes until my next appointment, and have not yet had my afternoon meal. Do you have time to join me?"

"Yes, of course."

* * *

Warning lights on both the stasis chamber and the medical monitors snapped on, flooding the surgery suite with red light and the blaring sound of the emergency klaxon.

* * *

(1) **MHU:** short for **M**obile **H**ospital **U**nit

(2) **Author's Note**: The Maymora class _Desh'rak_ was seen in my previous story "The Ek'tevan Prerogative". For more information on Vulcan ships, see the website at: /schematics/vulcan_.

(3) **Vai Giddas:** short for Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas which translated from the Vulcan it means the "followers of the holy guardian spirits", this is a Sect comprised mostly of Vulcan mystics and their apprentices. **Author's Note:** I made this sect up; it's NOT part of Trek canon.

(4) **Author's note:** This is in reference to Kirk's speech in Chapter 14, in which he stated in part: "...You can do everything you're supposed to do - prepare for every contingency you can imagine, double-check and triple-check your data - and still fail."

(5) **Author's note:** Many modern drugs these days have "warning labels" on them that admonish women not to take or even touch the pills because the components in the drugs can cause birth defects. Things like **Dutasteride** (a medication for prostate disease, which can be absorbed through the skin and cause birth defects; people who take this drug aren't even allowed to donate blood until they've been off the medication for a minimum of 6 months); **Propecia** (a hair-loss medication; women are told not to handle the pills because the ingredients may cause the male offspring of women who touch the pills to be born with malformed sex organs); and **Kineret** (an arthritis medication that can also cause birth defects). And there is also the history of **DES** (diethylstilbestrol, a form of synthetic estrogen). It was a drug that was routinely prescribed to women for almost 30 years, to help prevent miscarriages, that had to be banned when it was discovered, decades later, that the drug caused cancer, sterility and malformed sex organs in almost 80% of the offspring of the women who took the drug (these after-effects not making themselves apparent until after the offspring had reached sexual maturity). _[[Thank you to reader **junewilliams7** for reminding me about DES.]]_

(6) **Na'kanok-vei pon heh svi'pon kanok-vei:** from the Vulcan this translates as _"A time for everything, and everything in its time."_

(7) **Kolinahr:** the ritual by which a Vulcan purges all emotion. The ritual can last from one to six years, depending on the individual involved. According to the VLD: _a rigorous training program at Gol to purge oneself of all emotion, with psychic surgery if necessary._ In the 2009 "Star Trek" movie, Spock was contemplating going through the ritual. According to the Memory Beta site: _"...__The origin of the Kolinahr came during the time of Surak when he began to preach his philosophy of peace and logic. One of the many individuals that were converted to his teachings of cthia was the Highmaster of the Kolinahru mindlords, Sanshiin who abandoned his orders previous bloody history and sought the attainment of pure logic. After creating the Kolinahru Monastery, he began the Kolinahr ritual which involved the complete purging of emotion from a Vulcan's mind..."_ (.com/wiki/Kolinahr, and /wiki/Kolinahr)

(8) **Eku-svitan t'shaukaush:** translated from the Vulcan this mean "locus of passion", the central point from which love, joy, hatred, and anger emanates, the focus of one's emotional attention. Remember, in Chapter 18, it was mentioned that Sa'aat saw Spock as his Eku-svitan t'shaukaush.

(9) **Oracle at Delphi:** in Greek mythology, the oracle was a prophetess (also called a "sybil", "priestess" or "Pythia") who could be found in the Temple of Apollo on Mount Parnassus. She would go into a trance and start raving, speaking in tongues, and priests would then translate what she said. She was asked about everything from politics to personal matters. According to Wikipedia, _"__The Oracle exerted considerable influence throughout the Greek world, and she was consulted before all major undertakings: wars, the founding of colonies, and so forth. She also was respected by the semi-Hellenic countries around the Greek world, such as Lydia, Caria, and even Egypt."_

_(_10) **Three Symbols:** _ozhika, sochya_, and _difan'es_ are the Vulcan words for "logic", "peace" and "longevity". **Author's note: **As was mentioned in a footnote in Chapter 14, Vulcan symbols presented in triads (threes) like this, is not uncommon, and does have its basis in Trek canon. One site, The Star Trek Prop, Costume and Auction Blog (.), suggested that the three symbols used for Vulcan meditation (and worn by Adepts on their robes) were "rata" (concept), "tafar" (discipline) and "tapan" (process). I'm not accepting this interpretation, however, mostly because I can't find anything that supports the contention that the words rata, tafar and tapan even exist in the Vulcan language; and because the writer of the article on the blog site admits that the interpretation proffered ISN'T canon. My research showed that there is no Vulcan word for concept (the closest is "tangu" which means "ideal"), and that the Vulcan words for discipline and process are "nahr" and "torek". I will, however, accept the fact that three repeating symbols, whatever their verbal interpretation may be, DO appear throughout Trek canon on Vulcan clothing, including the robes Spock wore in _"Star Trek: The Motion Picture"_, and his burial robe in _"Star Trek: The Search for Spock"_. In this chapter, I am differentiating between the three symbols that appeared on the meditation lamp and the three symbols that appear on the male's formalwear.

(11) **T'zaled:** this is a blood oath sworn by Vulcans to be "loyal to the end"

(12) I**solette:** an isolating bassinette for premature babies which can also act as an incubator.

(13) **Kah, keh, reh, dah, wuh**: Is Vulcan for _"five, four, three, two, one"_

(14) **S****a-te'kru**: the Vulcan word for "king" or "monarch"

(15) **Osavensular T'Guv:** literally translated from the Vulcan it means "honored teacher of sex"; it is the title given to those enjoined to teach young Vulcans the more subtle side of sex: arousal, foreplay, sexual technique, stamina, self-gratification, etc. Males generally teach males and females generally teach females. [[**Author's Note:** This position is not part of Trek canon; it is something I made up for this story. It is based on similar teachers in ancient Greek and Roman history on Earth. I assumed that since modern Vulcans repressed their emotions and sexual urges/libido, and did not engage in open discussions of sexuality, they would have to have some sort of "schooling" in sex by honored professionals in order to gain some proficiency at it. Since Vulcans also tend to put structure and ritual around such things, I created the position of the Osavensular T'Guv to answer to that precedent.]]


	22. Chapter 22

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This was one of the most difficult chapters to write, and I have to applaud my beta FarStrider for her FANTASTIC editting skills in helping to cut out the suferfluous "chatter", and make the emotional content of this chapter really "pop". Amazing!

Do you need to be reminded again that the numbers throughout the text, like (6), are references to endnotes? Not really, but there you have it.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:**

"You received the data from the vipladayek nei?" (1) Sa'aat asked Spock as they entered the deserted mess hall.

"I did."

"But you have not yet reviewed it."

"No. I have mixed feelings about the recording," Spock walked to the nearest in-wall food replicator. "I understand it holds the answers to many of my questions about what occurred to me on New Vulcan, but… a part of me resists viewing it. _Pahutauik a'lazb vis kastorau rakusau-tor ish-veh._" (2)

"I understand," Sa'aat chose the table closest to the replicators as Spock programmed in his lunch.

"Are you hungry, osu?"

Sa'aat shook his head, "Tea will be adequate." He watched Spock tap a few more buttons. After the tray materialized, Spock sat opposite Sa'aat and handed him the teacup, saying, "I am curious about you, however, osu. My memories are fragmented. I take it we have known each other for quite some time; you knew my father's family before me. I remember having long discussions with you about self-discipline and emotional control, and feeling your loss for a protracted period, yet, other memories are fleeting, and some are completely gone. This seems odd. If we were such friends that you felt compelled to follow my career, protect me as much as you could on New Vulcan, and come after me when I was lost inside my mind following the shariv t'kae, why do I not remember you more fully?"

Sa'aat warmed his palms against the surface of the teacup for a few seconds before answering. "I believe your traumatized mind had difficulty differentiating between diverse forms of sexual activity, combining memories of what happened to you on New Vulcan with memories of our interactions during your Tupa t'Guv," (3) Sa'aat answered frankly. "Thus the shariv t'kae burned away more than just your trauma; other conjunctive memories were also affected." His candid statement revealed none of the intense underlying sorrow Sa'aat felt over Spock's lost memories. His own memories of their lessons together were all ones of bright discovery, exhilaration, and boundless joy. The idea that Spock's mind had somehow jumbled those benevolent interactions with the heinous violations perpetrated by Semuk and T'Pau, was heartbreaking.

"I see," Spock said quietly, looking at his plate, a light meal of asparagus in yamok sauce. (4) He took a few bites before venturing, "Perhaps we can rebuild some of what was lost, osu."

"That is possible. We can start with you referring to me as 'Sa'aat', and not 'osu'. Beyond our first few lessons, we were never very formal."

"As you wish, Sa'aat. Did I ever know much about your background? Tell me about yourself, your family, your history."

"That is a long and tedious story, I fear."

"We have thirty-one minutes," Spock reminded him. " - and you are an Adept."

Sa'aat knew Spock was asking for a mind meld to help restore and renew their association. And while the idea of touching Spock in that most intimate of Vulcan ways drew on Sa'aat's will and body like the tug of some secret, irresistible gravity, Sa'aat said in quiet warning, "Another meld so soon after a Katau Fa'ark may be painful, even dangerous."

"You will not allow me to come to harm."

That was true, Sa'aat admitted to himself. It could be done, he thought. He could enter the scintillating brilliance of Spock's emotional core without binding himself to it; he could merge with Spock's thoughts without bending them toward his own inclinations; he could share without taking. He would have to erect and fortify his shields and set aside his personal desires. _Than klau-fam._ (5) Discipline was everything.

"Sa'aat?"

"Are you certain, Spock?"

"I would not have suggested it, if I were not."

Sa'aat remained silent for several seconds before reaching across the table and placing the fingertips of his right hand on the psi-points of Spock's left temple, allowing his memories to flood into Spock's mind. Most whizzed by, barely discernable - a frantic muddle of motion, like the view from the windows of a bullet train – but it was startling for Sa'aat to see and experience those images which Spock chose to examine in more detail.

_A bright blue, hissing k'karee (_6_) coils around Sa'aat's three-year-old body as he sits on the kitchen floor in his father's house. Barely able to speak fluently, he is still able to assert his thoughts and desires with his mind. His will had brought the k'karee to him, and he feels no fear as the snake slips through his hands, like living water, toward the open door, and vanishes over the lip of the threshold..._

_A blur of time, images, emotions, sensations..._

_Slightly older now, Sa'aat looks up at his father, Sha'ar, a tall, heavy-boned, barrel-chested man, dressed in a general's uniform. His father bends low and hands him an unsheathed lipitah. The dagger looks like a sword in Sa'aat's small hands. Pride infuses his body._

_Another blur..._

_The stars overhead are brilliantly clear against the black sky. He is attempting the Rite of Tal'oth, and there are no plans, or strategies, or references to guide him; only the hum of T'Kashi's spirit in the back of his brain. Thirteen-year-olds are not supposed to attempt this, a four-month stay in the desert with nothing but a knife and one's wits on which to survive, but Sa'aat is adamant. He will prove to his mother, and to those who seek to assume his father's place in their household – the scavengers who had descended upon their home within days of Sha'ar's sudden death - that despite his age Sa'aat is competent, ingenious, a force with which to be reckoned. He clutches the lipitah, now a better fit to his hand, as a nor-sehlat approaches. (_7_) _

_A shorter blur..._

_Ragged and exhausted from the Tal'oth, his raw feet leaving bloody prints on the steps of the house that is now rightfully his, he stands, unseen, in the open doorway, listening to strangers unworthy to be within. Someone says the word, 'Assassination,' and Sa'aat's vision and mind go black..._

_Confusion... _

_Rage... _

_Control... _

_"He is more adroit and powerful than we imagined," a Healer's voice says. _

_Blurring... _

_Sa'aat watches his mother, T'holl, feed a young chkariya to the largest of her pet oluhk. (_8_) The snake swallows the furred creature in three gulps as Sa'aat says, "Teaching holds no interest for me, mother. I would rather pursue my father's career."_

_T'holl strokes the snake's length to aid in its digestion. "Your father is gone, and his station with him. Although death is natural, Sa'aat-kam, and comes, in one form or another, to all living things, it is not something I ever want you to pursue. A teaching position will keep you safe."_

_"Safe? From whom, mother? Your suitors are long gone."_

_"Your father had many enemies, thus, __we__ have many enemies."_

_"Where? They have never come forward to harm us, or arrest us, or harass us. What enemies, mother? Show them to me."_

_"You can see them in my eyes, my son," she looks up from her pet, and he notices that her brown eyes are rimmed with diluted blue.(_9_) Poison…_

_Grief... _

_Depression..._

_Another blur..._

_The instructors inside the Hall watch as he walks down the center aisle and takes his mother's chair among the Osavensular T'Guv. They are surprised to see, peeking out from the folds of his academic robes, a sheathed lipitah at his waist. Weapons are forbidden in this place, but no one counters him. At nineteen, he is the youngest person in the room, and his youthful voice echoes across the high ceiling as he says, "I am Sa'aat, son of Sha'ar, keeper of the katra of T'holl, daughter of Staron, ko-savensu t'guv. From this day, I am osu, sa-savensu t'guv, for I carry my mother's knowledge and experience. Do any of you deny my place in this Hall?" _(10)

_There is only silence... No one dares to refuse him..._

_A blur of determination, inner struggles, concessions... time flits by... _

_The front gate of D'H'riset… _(11)_ The main door to the house opens, and Amanda steps onto the porch, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. She smiles brightly and extends a hand to him, in the Human form of greeting, but is polite enough not to touch him without his permission. "Thank you for making room in your schedule for my son, Osavensu Sa'aat," she says._

_"I am honored to serve the House of Sarek," he answers, taking her hand and shaking it._

_The image shifts to Spock, still a teenager, all elongated torso, and thin coltish legs. He looks at Sa'aat with somewhat sullen eyes and a resolute set to his jaw. "What can you teach me, osu, that I cannot learn on my own?" he asks in a voice that's an odd mixture of respect and challenge._

_"Much," says Sa'aat. "A small demonstration - "_

_Sparks flashing..._

_Brightness..._

_Adrenalin..._

_Endorphins..._

_Layer upon layer of intricately infused emotions and sensations..._

_With his back arched and his hands fisting the sheet beneath him, the young Spock bares his teeth and wantonly groans to the ceiling..._

_Lust..._

_Passion..._

_Inner conflict...blurring…_

_The distance of stars... Sa'aat is traveling, going away, anywhere..._

_The long, flat, pan-like domes of the Ipsut Monastery come into view..._

_Protracted silence and dim rooms..._

_Chanting..._

_Long, intricate meditations..._

_Sa'aat watches himself in the mirrored walls of the Tvur T'Puksu (_12_), leaping and spinning, practicing the intricate movements of his k'a'sum'i lesson. His now long hair whirls around him like a black storm. Abruptly, all movement stops as he lashes out with one hand, and his lipitah hits the center of a target behind him, on the opposite end of the room, without his looking at it._

_A short blur..._

_The Ipsut priests and priestesses, all dressed in heavy, white, formal robes surround Sa'aat. The air is so thick with incense that when the Elder speaks, her breath is laced with scented smoke. Her hands on Sa'aat's forehead in benediction, she says "Adept. T'kahr," in a whisper as thin as her hair. _(13)

_More meditation...and an escape... _

_The monastery shrinks as distance is placed between it and Sa'aat... _

_Traveling again... _

_More stars..._

_Blurring…_

_From the cockpit of his tiny personal shuttlecraft, Sa'aat gets his first look at a Coh'Lie Manta. The vessel is so large it blocks his view of the stars, and its main portal alone fills his entire viewscreen... _

_A flashing, sudden glimpse of a Coh'Lie Salan'kah (_14_)... A creature which seems to be made of thick, black, oily mist, formed into the shape of a wolf-like biped with tall ears and an elongated muzzle. It is wrapped in the sheath of a young, translucent koko'dan, and calls itself Salan'kah K'yo..._

_Another blur..._

_Fear and pain..._

_Nisan..._(15)

_Bizarre foreign_ _rituals..._

_An exchange of information..._

_He catches his reflection in a com-panel as he stands alone on the bridge of the __Haulat__, a gift from the Salan'kah. He is being allowed to live, allowed to leave..._

_Blurring stars..._

_He is standing on the pitted ground of the black asteroid, Dremarka 17, being welcomed into the Hurgh Ghor Guild by a beefy Klingon named Khopoq, who grins at him with long, crooked teeth and slaps him so hard against his shoulder the wind is knocked out of him for a few seconds..._

_A short blur..._

_The flash of a compression phaser rifle at close range... Intense pain... _

_Blackness... _

_A long recovery condensed into a matter of seconds... _

_Scars... _

_Tattoos..._

_Khopoq looks grim as he hands him three decrees of execution. When he tries to take them, however, Khopoq tightens his grip on them and barks, " jIH'e' nge'qang Qu'!"_

_" Qo'!" he answers him, in a tone just as brusque and forceful. "Chaj Hegh tlhIlHal!" _(16)

_Indistinct views of the faces of two Vulcan males as they die... before a wall of blackness goes up and shuts off the vision of them. The sight of Semuk replaces it. _

_He is standing inside the __Haulat__ as Sa'aat rises from the command chair on the bridge, and introduces himself. Semuk goes pale as he realizes who and what Sa'aat is. He puts his hands up and pleads, "No! Wait! You must listen to me!"_

_Another short blur..._

_Standing slightly behind Spock - now tall, complete, unyielding despite his fatigue - before the Transitional Council, Kahr-Lan Sa'aat is attentive as his former pupil says, "I am Spock, son of Amanda of Earth. And I hereby restate my opposition to the Ek'tevan Prerogative and renounce my Vulcan citizenship until such time as the reproductive rights of the male population of New Vulcan are fully reinstated, the edict is vacated, and the present Ministers of the Transitional Council resign or are removed from office."_

_Pride..._

_Devotion..._

_Love..._

_Realization... _

_Rage..._

_Semuk rises from the richly upholstered couch in his living room, and feigns composure at the sight of Sa'aat. The heavy pulse in his throat and temple betrays him, however..._

Sa'aat withdrew his hand suddenly and Spock hissed as the contact shattered. Outside the parameters of the blocks and walls Sa'aat had erected, Spock was temporarily overwhelmed with impressions and emotional vibrations. He took a deep breath, blinked, and looked around the mess hall, realizing they were no longer alone. A red-skirted ensign had come in for coffee and was giving them a curious glance.

Still squinting slightly from the sensations generated by the link, Spock turned back to Sa'aat. "Tra'tor ulef vesht satau na'tevakh t'Semuk, hi vesht tizh-tor stauik t'sa-veh du." _(There was a warrant issued for Semuk's death, but... you __enjoyed__ killing him.)_

Sa'aat sipped his tea, then said, "Ha. Ish-nar-tor nash-veh. Vesht tor ish-fai-tukh ertau tu, ha?" _(Yes. I admit that. Does that knowledge disturb you?)_

"Pi' ha. I'ritsurri whl'q'n stausu. Surak vesht tar nam-tor weh-rom kup-hakau do kup-stau." _(Yes, a bit. Vulcan assassins are rare. Surak said it is better to heal than to kill.)_

Sa'aat took another sip of his tea, "Ein-pon, stauik nam-tor hakauik, Spahk-kam," _(Sometimes, killing is healing, Spock.)_

Spock rejected that notion with a slight shake of his head. "Ken-tor nash-veh ish visolektail svi'ma'toi tu opi'kan-wak. Shetail flekh-fam ish t'du...tsuri." _(I understand that you were immersed/buried in Death since childhood. It became familiar; your... normal.)_ Spock leaned forward a bit, his posture indicating sincerity. "Hi, Sa'aat-kam, du i'sharun rubai ish-pulva t'shal du - fo-dan-tor sular t'du - a'nirh-tor kanlar t'du - uzhau skann t'du. Shetau savensu va'ashiv. Hakau Uzh T'Kashi u'vesht hakau nash-veh du." _(But, Sa'aat, you now have the opportunity to change that aspect of yourself... to protect your people... to nurture your children... to renew your family... Become a teacher again. Heal New Vulcan, as you healed me.)_

Sa'aat looked away from him, and when his gaze fell upon the ensign by the coffee dispenser, she shuddered and hurried from the room. He turned back, and Spock saw the slight tremor at the hinge of his jaw that expressed his inner turmoil and the control he was exerting over it. Regaining his calm, Sa'aat finally said , "Playing the Ambassador's son, are we? Trying to negotiate a peace within my soul?"

"I meant no disrespect," Spock said earnestly.

Sa'aat nodded, "There is no offense where none is taken." (17)

"Then you will also forgive me when I say that I understand your reluctance to return to a more sedate life, Sa'aat. Even though you tried to shield it, I saw in your mind the two influences that have shaped who you have become: your anguish over your parents' deaths, and your attempt to honor your mother's wish for you to live a 'safe' life. I also understand, for a mind as powerful and exceptional as yours, teaching was uninteresting and tedious... until we met, when I became your amphetamine, your drug… the seven-percent solution to your Holmes, as it were.(18) I kept you engaged... until you realized you had feelings for me, and you forced yourself to leave me. And everything you have done since has been a result of either pursuing your investigation into your parents' deaths or from a need to avoid 'safety'."

Sa'aat said nothing as he listened to the litany of his life's secrets dictated to him in Spock's voice. There wasn't anything to say; Spock was speaking the truth.

"You went to Ipsut, not so much to compose yourself, as you wanted everyone to believe, but to prepare for your investigation; and the stimulus of that education and the promise of the hunt kept your mind engaged. After leaving the monastery, however, you met dead-end after dead-end. Your frustration became debilitating and you needed a new stimulant. So you trespassed into Coh'Lie space, believing they might kill you; but they were far more gracious than you had anticipated. They released you, and then you were directionless and bored again. So you joined the ranks of the Assassins' Guild, accessed their resources and databases; and with every assignment, you felt that surge of adrenalin, that flush of excitement you needed to feel alive, complete, necessary."

Spock watched as Sa'aat stared into his teacup, unable to disagree with his assessment. He continued, "When an assignment brought you back to Vulcan to execute Semuk, you capitalized on the position he offered you, in order to save himself, to access even the most secure databanks on the planet; to collect more information about those who had robbed you of your parents; and you came closer than you ever had to discovering who their murderers were, but the files were sealed, and even you, with all your power as Kahr-Lan, could not override the final encryption codes." Spock cocked his head in realization, "But Semuk had the codes."

"He did," Sa'aat acknowledged, "and he offered them to me in exchange for his life."

"If you had not killed him, you would have found the identity of your parents' killers. Why did you not spare him?"

Sa'aat lifted his eyes to Spock. "I could have. I could have manufactured excuses, forgiven him his previous crimes and indiscretions, invalidating the contract against his life issued by Begara Seven. But the moment he attacked you - the only living person I care about - I was as kil-tukh. (19) Although he could have given me the answers I so desperately wanted, to let him live, while you suffered, was not an option. I could not do so selfish a thing. When he drew your blood, he wrote his own ulef t'tevakh.(20) Nothing he could have said or done would have spared him." Sa'aat leaned back in his chair, bringing his cup with him, cradling it between his hands. "Besides, I did not need to bargain with him for the codes."

"You... took them from his mind."

"Yes."

"You have your answers, then."

Sa'aat drew in a long breath and let it out as a sigh, then said, "Your lunch is growing cold."

Spock looked at his meal. The yamok sauce was getting filmy and starting to congeal. He pushed his plate away and leaned forward, resting his forearms against the table's edge with his fingers loosely interlaced. "Did it not occur to you, Sa'aat-kam, that when you killed Semuk, you also robbed me of something?"

"Untrue," Sa'aat answered solemnly. "I would never take from you, Spock. I would never knowingly deprive you of anything."

"But you did deprive me. With Semuk dead, I will never have an answer as to why he attacked me. Nor will I ever be able to confront him face-to-face as a survivor of his atrocities."

"Untrue," Sa'aat repeated. "As I found my answers, you may yet have yours."

"How so?"

"T'Pau still lives... and... In order to fulfill the Begara Seven contract, a full confession from Semuk was required. Such stipulations in warrants from the Guild are not unusual. It is a way of providing the victims with some sort of emotional restitution; sometimes, just hearing a criminal acknowledge his guilt can be helpful, healing. I recorded Semuk's confession, and although he was not remorseful for any of his offenses, and made excuse upon excuse for doing what he did, he did admit his crimes, including his violation of you. I can provide you with a copy, if you wish... But, do not place too much hope in the idea that hearing his rationalizations will bring you peace, Spock. His crime was as much against your soul as it was against your body. There are some things the katra can never release."

* * *

Spock arrived at his quarters just as Sarek and two red-shirted security guards approached from the opposite end of the corridor. Calls about a "commotion" in his rooms had come from all over the surrounding decks, and Spock could hear Pa'shu bellowing. He opened the door and looked inside before entering. Tasmeen was standing by the bedroom door, while the sehlat panted and paced around the room, yowling, and G'By lay on their mattress crying. Pa'shu went to the cub and nuzzled him for a few moments to quiet him, before starting to pace again. As soon as his mother left, the hungry cub started wailing once more. Pa'shu lumbered back to him, and continued to howl at the bedroom door. Standing, she was too tall for G'By to reach her teats, so he continued to cry. Their noise was nearly deafening.

The red-shirts followed Spock into the room, with Sarek right behind them. When one of the guards leveled his phaser at Pashu, Spock put his hand over the weapon's muzzle and said, "There is no need for that." The guard seemed reluctant to lower his weapon in the face of the agitated, saber-toothed animal, so Spock stepped in front of the phaser and added, "That is an order, Lieutenant."

"Aye, Commander," the guard holstered his weapon, but kept his hand resting on its butt, while Sarek calmly asked Tasmeen, "What has happened?" although he wasn't expecting any kind of verbal response from her.

Glancing around the room, Spock noticed, "The female cub is missing."

Tasmeen nodded vigorously, and the words tumbled from her lips with such rapidity she trembled with the force of it. "Ha, sa-kai. Vesht padukau sos'eh na'svep than Ta'aan, heh vesht gla-tor-fam ko-veh nash-veh. Lu vesht tu'ash svep nash-veh hal-tor na'wu'sibav-ret, sos'eh vesht padukau vi'shi'yuk ko-veh. I'vesht klacha nam-tor svep, heh tu'ash kup-fam nash-veh." _(Yes, Brother. Ta'an must have rolled to the door, and I didn't see her. When I opened the door to go to the bathroom, she must have rolled into the bedroom. Now, the door is locked, and I cannot open it.)_

Both Spock and Sarek looked at her, stunned.

"What did she say?" the security guard asked.

Sarek stepped nearer to Tasmeen. "Ish-ashiv-tor, kan." _(Repeat that, child.)_

Tasmeen repeated slowly, "Vesht padukau sos'eh na'svep than Ta'aan, heh vesht gla-tor-fam ko-veh nash-veh. Lu vesht tu'ash svep nash-veh hal-tor na' wu'sibav-ret, sos'eh vesht padukau vi' shi'yuk ko-veh. I' vesht klacha nam-tor svep, heh tu'ash kup-fam nash-veh." Then she added, "Gol'nev nash-veh, sanoi, sa-mehk." _(Help me, please, Father.)_

Although surprised, not only that the child was speaking, but also that she was addressing Sarek and himself with familial titles, Spock maintained his composure. "Afer-tor spes t'du ki'tu, Tasmeen-kam." _(You have found your voice, Tasmeen.)_

"Ha," Tasmeen's tone indicated his comment was obvious. She put her hand against the bedroom door. "Sanoi, sa-kai, gol'nev korsau Ta'an nash-veh." _(Yes. Please, Brother, help me rescue Ta'an.)_

"Uh, if somebody could translate, that would be great. What's going on here? Commander?" the security guard asked.

"The child says the door seems to be locked, and the sehlat's second cub is on the other side. I can handle things from here, Lieutenant. Thank you."

"Are you sure, sir?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, but only said, "Quite sure." Even though he was concerned that the female cub, if she was indeed behind the door, wasn't making any noise despite her mother's desperate calls, he said to Pa'shu in a firm but unruffled voice, "Hizhuk, sehlat. Sarlah-tor kan-bu t'du klau-fam. Ne'ti," _(Quiet, selhat. No harm comes to your cub. Lay down.)_ Pa'shu snorted, clambered onto her mattress, and settled down, her body tight, her ears pricked forward. G'by squirmed and rolled his chubby body to the closest teat, and started suckling contentedly. With the noise in the room gone, and the animals seemingly contained, the security guards relaxed. Nodding to Spock, they exited, both keeping a wary eye on Pa'shu.

Spock tried the activation button to the bedroom door. There was no response beyond an odd, tinny-sounding *clitch*. He pried the cover from the control panel with his fingers and slipped two into the wiring to adjust the mechanism. Within seconds, the door slipped open, and Tasmeen hurried into the room. Pa'shu jumped to her feet and lumbered after her, G'by slipping off her teat with a slurping *pop*. He immediately started whining again.

Frantic, Pa'shu snuffled around the bedroom, before pushing her head and body under the bed, lifting the whole frame and mattress off the floor and onto her back. Ta'an was sleeping in a tight ball against the wall. Pa'shu worked her saber teeth around Ta'an's body, like a backhoe with a thumb attachment, and scooped her up. She returned to her mattress in the front room, settled beside G'by and opened her mouth to let Ta'an wriggle out beside her brother. The cubs rolled and squeaked around one another before nuzzling against their mother's body.

"There seems to be a slight gap in the wiring," Spock said as he walked to his desk to pull out a small case filled with delicate electronic tools.

In the bedroom, Sarek reached down to Tasmeen, and used a fingertip to move a few strands of her hair behind her ear, imparting to her, through this very light touch, all of the joy and relief he felt over her recovery of her voice, which he would not allow to show in his features. She took hold of his hand and held it for a moment, then said. "Tun-tor-fam, sa-mehk." _(Don't worry, Father.) _She looked over to where Spock was working on the door controls. "Hakauik nam-tor etek." _(We are all healing.)_

* * *

"Can someone turn off that damn noise, please!" McCoy snapped, and a nurse hurried to press the klaxon's shut-off switch with her elbow. The blaring noise stopped immediately. "Thank you," he said, his ears still ringing.

He broke the chamber's seal, and T'Cloo's body, no longer suspended, dropped to the bottom of the case, disengaging some of the tubes and setting off a cascade of new alarms. The nurse switched them off before McCoy had to say anything.

Dr. M'Benga, draped in dissipating green potun-tor vapors, reached in immediately with a laser-scalpel and made an incision in T'Cloo's abdomen, working quickly through the layers of flesh to her uterus, while Dr. McCoy cauterized small blood vessels and provided suction where needed.

"Have the isolette ready," McCoy said, not taking his eyes from his work.

"Standing by, Doctor," Christine assured him.

"A little help here," M'Benga said as he dipped his hands into T'Cloo's pelvis. Christine reached into the chamber and pushed hard on T'Cloo's abdomen, simulating contractions, as M'Benga carefully extricated the infant from her womb, head first. He cleared the infant's mouth and nose, while McCoy cut the umbilical cord.

"No entanglement," McCoy said. "Thank God for small favors."

"Isolette," M'Benga said, and a nurse pushed the machine within his reach. He placed the baby inside, and said, "Okay, let's get this baby breathing," while McCoy repaired T'Cloo's abdomen. Cleaning up the dead woman seemed sad and futile to McCoy, but he was determined to treat T'Cloo with the respect T'Pau and Semuk had denied her.

Her newborn was still frightfully silent. (21)

Dr. Surrey smiled at Spock as he entered his office for that day's session; the Vulcan was wonderfully punctual. Surprise replaced the smile, however, when, as soon as the door shut, Spock said, "I wish to talk about the rapes." He hadn't even said "good afternoon" yet.

Surrey blinked, stammering, "Oh-okay... um…Why don't you take a se-" Spock sat in the blue wingback chair. "Well," he grabbed a PADD from his desk and sat in the plaid chair across from Spock. "I'm glad you're so willing to share today, Mister Spock."

Spock was perched on the chair's edge, one hand a fist on the armrest, the other on his thigh, fingers spread. In Surrey's practice, when patients approached the subject of rape, they all did so differently. Some were ashamed, some livid, some morose, while others were evasive, or bewildered, or even relieved. Spock's face told Surrey nothing, but his posture indicated he felt torn: keen to discuss the subject (sitting on the edge of his seat), yet angry and reticent (evidenced by his closed fist). "What brought this subject up for you today, if you don't mind my asking?"

Spock did not miss a beat, "I participated in a mind-meld with Sa'aat, and - "

"Wait." Surrey held up his hand. "Another one? Other than the Katau Fa'ark?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Today?"

"Yes, Doctor. Seventy-two minutes ago, to be precise."

"Annnnd why did you do that?"

"I was curious about my previous association with Sa'aat, and believed a meld would be the most expedient route to ascertain the answers to my questions."

"I understand your intense curiosity is often a motivating factor for you, Mister Spock, but... do you think it's healthy, or safe, to let people gallivant inside your head when you're trying to heal and sort things out for yourself?"

"No one has been 'gallivanting', Doctor," Spock said with a flat look and a cocked eyebrow. "And Sa'aat is an Adept."

"He is, but... as your chief psychiatrist, I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to me before engaging in anything as invasive as a meld again."

Spock glanced away, before countering with, "In the practice of Vulcan psychology, mind-melds are often used to help bolster and sustain a patient."

Not wanting to argue the point with him, Surrey asked reflectively, "And you feel Sa'aat _bolsters and sustains_ you?"

"Yes. I believe he does. He is also always frank with me. He tells me the truth when no one else will."

_That was a polite but personal hit_, Surrey thought. _He doesn't think I'm always as forthright with him as I could be. _

"He seeks to assist me in any way he can, and, regardless of his feelings for me, he respects my personal boundaries. Today, for example, he could have manipulated my opinions and feelings for him through the meld; yet, he remained circumspect, reverential. I trust him... unreservedly."

"So, within your personal support system, you see him as a stalwart champion."

"Yes."

"That's great, Mister Spock, as long as you're careful not to idealize him too much. So, tell me how this mind-meld brought up the subject of the rapes."

"Within the meld, I experienced the moments just before Sa'aat executed Semuk."

"You_ 'experienced'_ it?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Tell me what that was like."

"Rather odd. Although he shielded me, I was aware of Sa'aat's thoughts and emotions, as well as my own. Sa'aat was self-constrained, for the most part, working within the parameters of the warrant sanctioning Semuk's execution, yet he was also quite angry, vengeful."

"And what were you feeling?"

"I was protected by Sa'aat, secure and impervious to harm. I saw the fear in Semuk's face and body when he understood why Sa'aat had finally come for him, and I admit, although such an admission causes me shame, it was a - satisfying experience."

"How so?"

"Vulcans are taught not to revel in death, to not allow ourselves to be consumed by vengeance, but... I cannot deny my lack of pity for Semuk in his last moments. When I saw his fear, I was somewhat gladdened by it. I had similar thoughts when Nero was defeated and the _Narada_ was consumed by the black hole. Captain Kirk had offered assistance to the Romulans when I was not inclined to do so; when, I was content to see them perish." (22) Spock sat quiet for several seconds then said softly, "Others' evil seems to engender evil within me."

"No. Don't go there. You're not evil, Mister Spock. Being outraged over Nero murdering your mother and destroying your planet, and over being sexually battered by Semuk is an expected and justifiable reaction. Experiencing gratification when some form of justice is leveled against the perpetrators doesn't mean you're evolving into a malevolent person. Quite the contrary; it pretty much means you're _'normal'_. Those responses aren't unusual."

"They are not unusual for Humans."

"I can assure you, Mister Spock: they're not unusual for anybody. Different species may have myriad ways of exhibiting their emotions, but trust me, we all pretty much feel the same things. We all have words for hate, and lust, and humiliation, and love. Emotions are the litmus paper of the psyche. They tell us what we need to know most about ourselves. You needn't be ashamed of your feelings - even the undesirable ones. What you're describing indicates your mind is processing the trauma you've endured; using Sa'aat not only as a surrogate of your rage, but also as a personification of your renewed sense of power. Those are signs of a healthy mind progressing through the stages of -"

Spock sighed, his whole posture saying, 'Spare me,' as he sat back further in his chair. "I have read the library files on the subject, Doctor," he said. "I understand that, according to the literature, I am expected to pass through a series of three stages: the acute stage, the outward adjustment stage, and the renormalization stage. Presently, I seem to be caught between stages one and two. I am aware that I am exhibiting intermittent symptoms of bewilderment, numbness, dissociation, and dulled neural and memory function, but I am seeking to find ways of coping with the trauma - as evidenced by my participation in therapy - while I also seek to explain and analyze the traumatic events. (23) I have been a scientist all my life. I understand the flow of processes. Evolution. Transmutation. Conversion. Adaptation. Everything progresses in stages; even life itself. Nonetheless, reading about the stages is far different from experiencing them."

"That's true. Where it might be fun to be the scientist, it's seldom fun to be the experiment, or the experimented upon. It's even less fun when you're anxious to get through the process and get on with your life, and everything just seems to plod along at a snail's pace."

"Precisely," Spock agreed with a shallow nod. "There are times when I am most impatient -"

"Another perfectly normal reaction, Mister Spock. I understand it was likely that impatience led you to seek the mind-meld with Sa'aat, but, I would prefer if you'd consult with me before doing anything like that again."

"I do not foresee the necessity for another meld in the near future. However, Sa'aat did present me with something, about which I feel considerable trepidation."

"What is it?"

"These," Spock said, opening his clenched hand to reveal two, small, white seed-like devices.

Surrey leaned forward to get a better look. "What are they?"

"Vip-neis."

"Recording seeds... Sa'aat mentioned something about them during one of our meetings. He said he activated one in the medical arena before your chemically induced plak-tau, and recorded everything that happened to you."

"Yes. It is here - or a duplicate of it, at any rate."

Dr. Surrey looked up at Spock. "What's on the second one?"

"A copy of Semuk's confession and execution."

"Good god..." The doctor returned his gaze to the vip-neis. It was amazing, he thought, that these tiny, pristine, innocuous things could hold such profound and horrible information.

"Part of me wishes to view the contents; part of me does not," Spock admitted.

"I'd say that's very understandable, Mister Spock," Dr. Surrey sat back again. "Why don't we start with the one that holds the information about your plak-tau. Tell me why you'd want to view that one."

"I would know what happened to me; I would no longer be at the mercy of my impaired memory. There would be no more gaps."

"Why would this be helpful to you?"

"The questions in my mind would cease. No one could lie to me about it."

"You think you've been lied to?"

"I am uncertain. I do believe information has been withheld from me, but whether it was done to deliberately mislead me, or was simply an attempt to spare me the ugly details, I do not know."

"Do you want to know and see the ugly details, Mister Spock?"

"That is at the crux of my indecision, Doctor. Although I am uncertain I want to see myself debased in such a manner - I also desire to challenge myself to view it."

"Why do you need to challenge yourself in such a way?"

"If I could view the imagery and survive the viewing, I would be a stronger person."

"You don't feel you're strong enough now?"

"I am secure within myself; I am confident about my abilities, my capacity for survival. However, I was overpowered and violated by others. I cannot help but think I am, therefore, lacking in power in some regard."

"That sense of powerlessness is also a very normal reaction to what you've been through. However, you don't regain your power by beating yourself up, or subjecting yourself to more ugliness and mental anguish. You do it by taking actions to heal yourself and your personal relationships, moving forward with your life, and confronting your attackers - either directly or indirectly."

"You would suggest that I not view the plak-tau vip-nei?"

"I would suggest you hold off on making a decision about viewing it until you're further along in the therapeutic process, and more secure within yourself."

Spock rolled one of the two vip-neis up toward the tips of his fingers, and then held it out to Dr. Surrey. "Perhaps, you can safeguard it for me, until I am ready to make a final decision on it."

Dr. Surrey nodded and opened his hand to receive the device. As soon as Spock released it to him, he tucked it into his shirt pocket. "Now about vip-nei Number Two... Tell me why you want to view that one."

Spock held it up between his fingers and looked at it. "Sa'aat suggested viewing it may give me my answer as to why Semuk attacked me."

"And the why is important to you."

Spock looked past the vip-nei, at Dr. Surrey. "Yes. Exceedingly so. I ask myself that question every day."

"Then, why don't you want to view it?"

"Semuk may say things I do not wish to hear. He may not give any answers at all. Or what he says may generate more questions." Spock's hand closed around the device and dropped to the chair's armrest. "Lieutenant Uhura described our situation as being in a _bucket of fishhooks_. If I tug on this particular hook -" he bounced his fist on the armrest softly. "- I may cause myself more pain."

"Yeah. It's a tough one, Mister Spock. Let's say you do view it - and Semuk is unrepentant, believes he was justified in attacking you, and makes no apologies for his actions. How will that make you feel?"

Spock mulled over his response for several seconds before admitting, "If he downplayed his actions, or attempted to place the blame upon me, I would feel anger, rage and a sense of self-righteousness; nothing will ever exonerate, or validate, or mitigate what he did to me. It was a criminal act of unprovoked violence."

Dr. Surrey smiled a little. "Those sound like the words of a man who is a lot more self-assured and powerful than he gives himself credit for, Mister Spock. They're good to hear. But tell me, what would you do with your anger, and rage, and self-righteousness?"

Spock slowly shook his head. "Nothing overtly violent, I am sure. I would find a way to contain it, as I did with my anger against Nero."

"Okay. So do you want to view this recording?"

"What do you suggest, Doctor?"

"I suggest it's up to you. I'll support whatever decision you make about it."

Spock rolled the second recording-seed in his hand for several seconds before saying, "I wish to view it."

* * *

T'Cloo's newborn was on his back in the isolette, naked except for a far-too-large diaper and a soft cloth that protected his still-developing irises from the blue light of the phototherapy inducer treating him for jaundice. The long, healing scar on his chest, a remnant of his earlier heart surgery, was faint and smooth, glowing with a light pinkish-green tint. As Sa'aat watched, his chest rose and fell rapidly, then intermittently stopped before starting up again.

"Apnea," McCoy said quietly from behind him. "That's not uncommon in preemies this young. The respiration-inducer gives him a poke now and then to keep him breathing. His lungs are developing properly, but are still a little too fragile at this point to be on a standard ventilator."

"Will he survive?"

"I don't know. It's going to be touch and go for quite a while." McCoy pulled off his surgical scrubs and tossed them into the recycling shoot. "Kids born this premature always have an up-hill battle."

"How old is he?"

"The cellular regression test indicates he's twenty-five weeks along."

"Too young to have been conceived during Spock's plak-tau..."

"Yeah. Tell me how Spock could have fathered a child when he wasn't even around - "

"T'Pau and Semuk had access to his genetic materials; they had his blood and sa-nei-masu samples. Doubtless, they also had T'Cloo's ova as part of the Ek'tevan Prerogative's push to establish a planetary genetics bank."

"The real question," Dr. M'Benga said, stepping over to look in on the infant, "is why anyone would do anything like this to begin with. Vulcans, as a people, have a profound respect for death. It's inconceivable to me that a Vulcan would even contemplate using the dead to generate life."

Sa'aat shifted his gaze to M'Benga. He had researched the doctor as soon as Dr. McCoy announced the man was going to be on his _'discreet team'_, but this was the first time they'd met. He was impressed with M'Benga's dedication to Vulcan medicine and his stoic affect. Even when M'Benga's words conveyed his disgust at the debasement and exploitation of T'Cloo, his face and voice revealed nothing. It was unusual to find such an expertly contained Human.

"T'Pau is not in her right mind," Sa'aat said.

M'Benga raised his eyebrow in a very Vulcan-like expression, and said, "That seems quite evident. T'Pau, however, was a great leader; a woman of profound intelligence. What caused her to decline so completely, so rapidly?"

"I am hardly a psychologist, Dr. M'Benga."

"Perhaps, but I'm sure you've gathered enough intelligence on her to have formed some kind of an opinion, fa'Kahr-Lan." It seemed as if M'Benga had done his own homework, as well, although he had probably found that trying to research Sa'aat was far more difficult than he had imagined it would be. Beyond Sa'aat's birth records and information about his short-term commission as a general, M'Benga would have been able to find little about him. A lack of personal data generally indicated an individual was either a criminal who had changed his identity, or a person of note under government protection. Since, given Sa'aat's former position in the government, criminality would seem out of the question; M'Benga had probably deduced he was either from a very high-ranking, influential clan, or that he may have been associated with the V'Shar or the Vulcan Guard.(24)

"I tend to keep such opinions to myself," Sa'aat told him.

"You do see her behavior as 'criminal', do you not?" M'Benga pressed. "Desecration of the dead used to be one of the few high crimes on Vulcan -"

"It still is."

"So the New Vulcan police force is searching for her, then?"

"There is no centralized _'police force'_ established for New Vulcan yet, Doctor. Intelligence gathering had been confined to the military under the late Minster Semuk, and is now under the purview of the Triumvirate. Nonetheless, I have no doubt a pursuit of T'Pau is underway, and that she will be brought to justice."

"What about this little one?" M'Benga indicated the infant. "What justice will there be for him?"

"Only time will tell."

"Well, someone's going to have to take custody of him, pronto, and start making decisions about his on-going care," Dr. McCoy put in. "The emergency that brought him here is over with, so I don't have medical jurisdiction over him anymore. As the child's next of kin, Spock is going to have to be told he's here."

* * *

As the vip-nei projected its contents through the com-link screen in Dr. Surrey's office, Surrey watched Spock more than the monitor. He understood the Vulcan's desire for answers about what had happened to him, but he also knew Spock tended to push himself too hard, demanded too much of himself, and was too often at the mercy of his insatiable Vulcan curiosity and Human impatience.

Spock stood in front of the monitor, leaning slightly forward so he could better see and hear the projection. On screen, Semuk sat on a sumptuous brocade and velvet couch in the front room of his home, and, despite his Vulcan discipline did not look at all at ease. His brows were peaked, his eyes wide, and he spoke in rapid, breathless Vulcan, with a slight quiver to his lips. Spock periodically stopped the feed to explain what was being said. "Vesht tor-fam y'nash-vey ish-veh, Sa'aat. T'Pau riveht-stal krusitau-stukhtra Spahk. Than-fam fai-tor nash-veh abi'po'vesht than nam-tor bae'cok. Svi'ma'toi t'sa-veh, maval fam krus nash-veh. " (25)

"He claims T'Pau was solely responsible for the death of Spock Prime," Spock translated.

"How do you feel about that?" Surrey asked.

"I had suspected as much," was all the answer Spock would give. He turned back to the video feed.

From off-camera, Sa'aat's voice could be heard, "Hi vesh'katravah k'abru-wein du," he said. _(But you were associated with the cover-up.)_

Semuk looked past the camera at him, imploringly. "Ra dvel vesh'than ma nesh-veh ha? Vesht nam-tor kae'amp ko-veh. Vesht pthak na'ha'kiv t'nash-veh." _(What option did I have? She was insane. I feared for my life.)_

"Fam ni mau ish-vesht nakarat sasahr-tor s'ko-veh nash-veh - il sashavau tr'y'jarlar t'ko-veh tor vathular k'svi Ekhartausular." _(Not so much that you endeavored to flee from her, or expose her crimes to the others within the Ministry.)_

"Vesht fai-tor-fam vi kitok vesht pthak tvinaf-tor nash-veh. Vesht fai-tor-fam wilat kitok hal-tor nash-veh. _(I didn't know who else was involved/interlinked. I didn't know where else to go.)_

"Vesht guhl'es-tor svi'nash-veh vesht kup du." _(You could have confided in me.)_

"Nash-veh - Flash-tor-fam du istal nash-veh." _(I... I didn't want to burden you.)_

"Rilokav'es. Psthanik nam-tor sa-telsu t'ko-veh du. An'kharh-fam ko-veh du – zahalan-tor ko-veh du. Vah shetal ko-veh weh-abrupik – vah sehtal ko-veh weh-khrashik weh-teportilal du. Vesht than du fan-vel vesht var-tor du ko-veh - vesht tar-tor fan-vel riyeht-zhit vesht var-tor du ko-veh var-tor – vesht zakar-tor vi vesht var-tor du ko-veh zakar-tor. Nafai-tor ish-veh." _(Sophistry. You were vying/questing to be her consort. You didn't fear her, you admired her. The more dominant, the more violent she became, the more aroused you were. You did whatever she told you to do, told whatever lie she told you to tell, damaged whomever she told you to damage. Admit it.)_

"Ashal ko-veh ha nash-veh. Bi lu vesht gla-tor uf nafu'es t'ko-veh rubaiik - uf kloshai-has-mar heh ek'pa-pthak vesh'pa-noshik vesht nakarat trasha-tor nash-veh. Vesht nakarat ac'ruth-tor ko-veh prah-tor gol'nev na't'kov-veh nash-veh. Vesh'kae'amp ko-veh." _(I loved her, yes... But when I saw how her personality was changing, how the psychosis and paranoia were enveloping her, I tried to leave. I tried to convince her to get help. She was mad.)_

"Semuk is making excuses for himself; blaming everything on T'Pau," Spock said to Surrey without looking at him.

"No honor among thieves, eh?" Surrey muttered.

From the monitor, Sa'aat's voice asked, "Eh ha vesht ne-tor t'du nashiv-tor Spahk du - trashaik il golik vesh'ish, ha?" _(And when you lowered yourself to attack Spock... was that leaving, or helping?)_

The subtle change in Spock's posture told the doctor the subject of the onscreen conversation had turned to him. Surrey watched for any reaction.

Semuk asked, "Pa'ra staribenil du, ha?" _(What are you talking about?)_

In response, Sa'aat's voice was a low, threatening roar that Surrey had never heard from a Vulcan before. It startled him; and Spock's hand clenched at the sound of it. "Vesht nah-tor du tal-tor-fam'uh nash-veh, ha?" _(Did you think I wouldn't find out?) _

"Pa'ra staribenil du, ha?" Semuk repeated softly, his hands up, pleading with Sa'aat to calm himself.

Sa'aat hissed, "Ved dva-tor than du ish-tor nash-veh vup-tor kup du, ha? Tor'uh nash-veh, ha? Plat-fam'uh! K'la'sa'uh!" _(Do you really believe you can lie to me? To __me__? Coward! Rapist!)_[26]

"Pa'ra staribenil du, ha?" Semuk repeated for a third time, his voice even weaker than before. Sa'aat's movements as he stepped in front of the camera and to the couch were little more than a blur. He grabbed Semuk's head with both hands and pressed his fingers into the man's psi-points.

Everything seemed to stand still for a moment; Dr. Surrey even found himself holding his breath. On screen, Semuk's eyes focused inward, and his hands, which he'd raised to protect himself, fell limply to his sides. Sa'aat's slow, deep breath moved up his throat and out of him with a low growl. With each exhalation, he pushed his fingers more firmly against Semuk's skull.

"Sa'aat is forcing his way into Semuk's mind," Spock whispered; Dr. Surrey barely heard him.(27) He knew Vulcan culture generally prohibited forced mind-melds; it was considered a form of "mental rape". Nonetheless, the military sometimes used the technique for interrogation purposes. Even among military personnel, however, few had the talent for it. Such a meld required the interrogator be skilled enough to block his mind from that of the subject, so the link was literally one way. Fewer still had the stomach for it. A forced meld was excruciatingly painful for the subject, and could cause irreparable damage.

Hanging from Sa'aat's grip like a rag-doll, Semuk groaned as the walls within his mind were destroyed, one after the other. The groans rose to the level of agonized screams as Sa'aat ripped the truth from him.

His voice ragged, speaking and spitting through his teeth, Semuk finally acknowledged against his will, "Aitlil kan t'sa-veh ko-veh. T'sa-veh'uh kan! Fam t'nash-veh. Fnu-ven sa-veh nash-veh." _(She wanted his child. His child! Not mine. I hated him.) _

"Vi aitil kan sa-veh, ha?" _(Who wanted his child?)_

"T'Pau."

"Aitil kan t'Spahk T'Pau, ha?" _(T'Pau wanted Spock's child?)_

"Ha." _(Yes.)_

Spock's brows tightened in an undisguised frown.

"What are they saying?" Surrey asked. Spock shook his head and didn't answer.

On the screen, Sa'aat asked, "Po ha?" _(Why?)_

"Fai-tor-fam nash-veh," Semuk's voice was strained. "Ken-tor-fam nash-veh. Po kan t'sa-veh eh 'nash-veh-fam, ha?" _(I don't know. I don't understand. Why his and not mine?)_

"Dom k'la'sal sa-veh du." _(So you defiled him.)_

"Ha. Lu ni'droiil ko-veh kuhsh-tor sa-veh, k'la'sa-tor sa-veh, vesh'kunli than ish-veh nash-veh. Yaut than ish-veh. Nam-tor dor-fam ulef kosh-ves Spahk. Watosh va'am t'wul'q'n," Semuk groaned.

"I can hear him using your name, Mister Spock. Translate that for me, please."

Spock paused the feed for a moment, answering without looking at the doctor, "He said that when T'Pau asked him to beat me, debase me, he was happy to do it. Proud to do it. He said I was an insolent half-breed; a mockery of a Vulcan..."

"You know that isn't true, don't you?"

"Yes, but... I have not heard such words spoken aloud since I was a child. That other's still view me as such is - disconcerting."

Spock started the feed again, and Semuk continued, "Bolail sa-veh vesht nashiv-tor - vesht vok-tor svi'pekh-mashyut wilat t'ko-veh. Pinkail ish-veh Spahk."

"I needed to be castigated, knocked down into the gutter where I belong. He said I deserved it..."

"Sa-veh heh t'sa-veh t'dahsu. Vashail panu t'etek. Vesht hal-tor kanok-vei vesht ki'etek."

"That my counterpart and I destroyed our world. Everything we had is gone."

"Fi'T'Kashi, vesht kup nufail t'T'Pau ahm t'nash-veh, shasol t'nash-veh, veltra t'nash-veh, hi ek'tevik t'ish-ek - heh ko-telsu-tala na'vel-fam. Na'vel-fam - kaula Spahk."

"On Vulcan he could have given T'Pau his name, his lands and his property, but none of that exists anymore. He had nothing for the bride-price... except me."

"Vesht nam-tor lafot sa-veh. Spakh'uh! Pinkail kuhshik. Pinkail k'la'sal."

"It was all my fault. I deserved the beating. I deserved to be raped."

"You didn't deserve that, Mister Spock."

"Ya'akashik t'ish-veh ek' ha'kiv t'sa-veh - eh nam-tor vesht yaut ish-veh tan-tor t'sa-veh."

"I had been asking for it all of my life, and he was proud to be the one to give it to me."

"Vesth than fan-vel t'T'Pau. Fan-vel," Semuk said, his voice rising. But even as Semuk's voice took on a loud, screeching quality with every sentence, Spock's own voice remained quiet, level, dispassionate. "He would have done anything for T'Pau; anything."

"Vesht dungi-pustau k'wein-fam-el'rual Spahk - kuv vesht ya'akash ko-veh tor nash-veh."

"He would have killed me with his bare hands if she asked him to."

"Na'vel-fam nam-tor Spahk'uh!"

"He says I am nothing."

"Ten do na'vel-fam."

"Less than nothing."

"Fnu-ven'uh sa-veh nash-veh!"

"He says he loathes me."

Semuk screamed, "Pinkail tev-tor'uh sav-veh! Dungau-sa'le-esh-tor'uh sa'veh!"

"He says I deserve death. I should die."

"That's enough," Surrey reached past Spock and shut off the feed. He disconnected the vip-nei from the com-link so Spock couldn't watch any more of the recording. Rounding the desk, he opened a drawer and dropped both of the vip-neis into it, then locked the drawer. Stepping slowly back toward Spock, he observed him for several seconds before saying, "Tell me what you're thinking." Spock shook his head again. "This isn't the time to clam up, Mister Spock. Trust me. You need to speak. Put your thoughts and feelings into words."

Spock stepped away from the com-link and wandered aimlessly across the room, stopping near the shelving unit with the Vulcan figures. He looked at them for a long while. "It is - upsetting to know others hold me in such contempt."

"Not 'others', just Semuk. He was only speaking for himself."

"I am reduced to… This is the same pain I felt as a child: never a part of my people, loathed, separate -"

"Semuk doesn't speak for all Vulcans. Some members of your race revere you. They named a sect after you, defended you in the face of the Ministers and want to emulate your life-choices."

"Semuk attacked me because of his hatred for me."

"He was a sick, perverted criminal who used you abominably. His words describe the person he was, not who or what you are. Semuk doesn't define you. He never has."

Spock met Surrey's eyes. He took a deep, controlled breath, and the anguish that had briefly flooded his eyes disappeared behind a mask of Vulcan control. "Well," he exhaled, tugging the hem of his over-shirt down to bring a sense of order to his external appearance. "I have my answer as to why Semuk attacked me, at any rate. For now, that is sufficient."

* * *

(1) **vipladayek nei:** also called a "vip-nei" for short, a "recording seed", a tiny pip-sized digital recording device used by the military for covert surveillance.

(2)**Pahutauik a'lazb vis kastorau rakusau-tor ish-veh:** Translated from the Vulcan this means, _"Agitating the spider's web encourages it to sting"_; a metaphor meaning some things are better left alone.

(3) **Tupa t'Guv**: translated from the Vulcan this means Lessons of Sex.

(4) **Spock's lunch:** _yamok sauce_, according to Trek canon (DS9), was a Cardassian delicacy that was adapted to be used with Terran food (and was supposedly especially good with asparagus).

(5) **Than klau-fam**: translated from the Vulcan, this means _"do no harm"_.

(6) **K'karee**: according to the VLD, this is a _"mottled blue-grey poisonous snake; found in the desert"_.

(7)**Rite of Tal'oth**:similar to the Vulcan "kahs-wan" (a pre-teen ritual), this is a ritual usually meant for young adult males to test their strength and ingenuity, as they are left alone in the desert for four months with nothing but a dagger. Teenagers weren't generally allowed to participate. **Nor-sehlat:** according to the VLD, this is "a larger, predatory sehlat relative; lives in the deep desert and is unable to climb rocks to catch its prey"

(8) **Chkariya** and **oluhk**: According to the VLD the chkariya is a kind of "weasel" and the oluhk are "snakes". **Author's note:** I imagined, in Sa'aat's backstory, that his mother was a Oko-sanvensu T'Guv who was also had a hobby as a herpetologist. A sex-teacher keeping snakes seemed humorous to me. This also harkens to the novels about Alexander the Great by Mary Renault, in which Alexander's mother kept snakes in the house all the time, and used them for divination purposes.

(9) **T'holl's eyes**: a blue rim around the outer boundaries of a brown eye is often symptomatic of mercury poisoning. This, according to "Iridagnosis: Chapter X, Signs of Inorganic Minerals in the Iris of the Eye", which read in part,_ "This is a typical mercurial eye. The bluish rim in a brown eye indicates the presence of the poison in the system and its destructive effect upon the cuticle. The patient received many inunctions of mercurial ointments. The destructive effect of the poison on the brain tissues is revealed by the white crescent near the right upper margin of the iris." _

(10) **Author's note:** in this moment Sa'aat is telling the other teachers in the Hall that by melding with his mother's katra, he gained her memories, her experience, her knowledge; he knows and remembers everything she knew and remembered, and he's now taking her place among the teachers. It was an unusual feat for someone as young as Sa'aat was at the time, which again hinted at his extreme mental acuity. Although it's not said here, it's presumed that when he melded with his mother, he also gained all of her specific knowledge about his family's enemies - which helps to explain why he later pursued such a violent career as an assassin. The terms **"ko-savensu"** and **"sa-savensu" **are Vulcan for "female teacher" and "male teacher".

(11) **D'H'riset**: Sarek and Amanda's estate on Vulcan outside the city of Shi'kahr near Mount Tar'hana. _(Orion Press Lexicon, and ENT: "Home")_

(12) **Tvur T'Puksu**: Vulcan for "Hall of Fighters" or "The Fighter's Hall"

(13) **T'kahr:** an ancient word in Vulcan meaning, "teacher"; a form of polite address, it's not used in every day speech (and has been replaced by the word "savensu"), and is relegated to use in ceremonies and rituals.

(14) **Coh'Lie Salan'kah**: a warrior captain of the Coh'Lie race; the word _Salan'kah_ is Coh'Lie for "sword". **Author's Note: **nothing that has to do with Coh'Lie is Trek canon; it's all of my own creation.

(15) **Nisan**: "tests", in Vulcan

(16) **The Klingon conversation:** In Klingon, Khopoq says, _"I will take the missions!"_ And Sa'aat answers, _"No! Their deaths are mine!"_ Khopoq was testing Sa'aat's resolve in "claiming" the deaths as his own.

(17) **There is no offense where none is taken**: Sa'aat is quoting Surak here. In the Vulcan, this sentence reads: "Nam-tor ri thrap wilat nem-tor rim."

(18) **Holmes:** In the Arthur Conan Doyle stories about Sherlock Holmes, Holmes was addicted to cocaine, which he injected in a "7% solution". Holmes used the drug to stimulate his brain when he was between cases, to give himself the "high" that investigations gave him.

(19) **Kil-tukh**: the Vulcan word for "flint"; in the poetic use of the word (as is "flinty"), to turn to flint means to become hardened, cruel, unsympathetic.

(20) **Ulef t'tevakh**: from the Vulcan this translates as "death warrant".

(21) **C-Section:** This description of a cesarean birth was based on several medical websites, and photographs provided with the article _"Cesarean Section Photos: Step-by-Step"_ by Robin Elise Weiss, LCCE

(22) **The **_**Narada's**_** defeat:** This is in reference to scenes in the 2009 motion picture _"Star Trek"_ when Kirk and Spock had been successful in rescuing Captain Pike and crippling the _Narada_. As the vessel was being consumed by a red-matter-generated black hole, Kirk offered the Romulans assistance, and when Spock asked him what he was doing, Kirk responded with_, "Showing them compassion. It may be the only way to earn peace with Romulus. It's logic, Spock, I thought you'd like that."_ To that Spock answered, _"No, not really. Not this time."_

(23) **Stages:** These are the stages of recovery most patients of RTS (Rape Trauma Syndrome) go through. Not all patients experience these stages in the same order, for the same length of time, or with to the same degree. Sometimes, patients can get caught in one stage or another; advance through to the second stage, and then regress again; or skip stages entirely. This, according to several websites and treatises on the subject, especially _"Rape Trauma Syndrome"_ by Ann Wolbert Burgessand Lynda Lytle Holmstrom in the American Journal of Psychiatry, September 1974, and other websites.

(24) **V'shar and Vulcan Guard**: The V'Shar, according to the Memory Alpha and Beta sites, was _"the planet Vulcan's intelligence agency that was a part of the Vulcan Ministry of Security and was tasked with the security of the Vulcan state. Its most recent history was primarily devoted to the gathering of technical, scientific and economic intelligence from all over the galaxy. Starfleet Intelligence came to deeply respect the V'Shar's analysts for their coldly logical ability to uncover gems of important information in a mountain of raw data which surpassed others involved in the same field." _The Vulcan Guard was another part of the Vulcan Ministry of Security which was tasked with protecting Vulcan government officials.

(25) **Vesh'tor-fam y'nash-vey ish-veh, Sa'aat. T'Pau vesht riveht-stau krusitau-stukhtra Spahk. Than-fam fai-tor nash-veh abi'po'vesht than nam-tor bae'cok. Svi'ma'toi t'sa-veh, vesht mavau fam krus nash-veh**: Translated from the Vulcan this means, _"It was not my doing. T'Pau murdered the alternate-universe Spock. I didn't know until after the deed was done. In his death, I played no part."_

(26) **Exclamations:** Vulcan seldom allow themselves to openly express emotions, but one way they DO reveal it is by adding an exclamation-like "punch" to their verbiage with the suffix _'uh_ to their words when they speak. They don't actually shout or yell, but the _'uh_ indicates they're not kidding and are speaking as forcefully as they can without getting outwardly demonstrative. And the term "**plat-fam**" translates literally form the Vulcan as "without spine" or "spineless".

(27) **Forced mind-meld:** In the Star Trek film _"The Undiscovered Country"_ Spock used a meld to force Valeris to reveal information about a conspiracy to him. The link was so painful for her, that she screamed throughout it. According to the Memory Alpha and Memory Beta sites, _"It was possible to force a mind meld on an unwilling subject, but most Vulcans were loath to do so, unless under the most dire circumstances. An exception may be the Vulcans of the mirror universe, whose ethical constraints, shaped by the savagery of their environment, were far different... However, melding can be used as an interrogation technique in which case the melder can block the meldee's access to their own mind."_ According to the VLD, the Vulcan phrase for this kind of forced meld is "**kae'at k'lasa**".


	23. Chapter 23

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the finalized, beta'ed version of this chapter. Thanks to FarStrider for all the hard work!

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:**

Nyota had eagerly accepted Spock's invitation to join him after their shift. Initially, however, she had found him to be rather sulky and distant. He refused to talk about his meeting with Dr. Surrey, and she assumed their session had left him feeling raw and vulnerable. She allowed him time to sort through his emotions and was rewarded when he turned to her and said, "You love me for who I am, k'diwa. I cannot express to you how valuable and meaningful that is to me."

"Try," she said, embracing him.

Their lovemaking that night was almost as vibrant as the shocking, wonderful encounters at the beginning of their relationship. Spock focused on pleasing her and he seemed determined to prove something to himself, as though he needed to fully connect with her to feel legitimate and worthy of her. He kept his thoughts shielded, but the heat of his emotions sizzled through the veneer. He was ardent but gentle, nuzzling her skin while pushing deeply into her, in order to secure their physical contact. Murmuring endearments, his lips and tongue played along her mouth, her throat, her breasts and midriff. He rolled against her like a wave; covering her body with his, as he alternately led her from one plateau to another, or waited for her. He bit her lightly, here, here and here, along her inguen and inner thighs, as she giggled, gasped, and groaned while gripping his hair, or pinching the tips of his ears.

When they were both sated, Spock released himself into a heavy sleep, his body still wrapped around hers, his lok still nestled within her, his face in her hair.(1) She felt his hot breath against her scalp. Even as he slept, his fingertips, resting against the small of her back, fed his emotions into her spine, causing her nervous system to spark with a mixture of his love, lust, contentment, pleasure, joy and gratitude. Enveloped, infused, quenched, the rhythm of his breathing lulled her to sleep.

Spock had already showered and was tugging his undershirt over his head and torso when Nyota rolled over and smiled at him, the blankets a soft tangle around her legs. She traced the line of hair that trailed from the center of his chest, past his navel, to the waistband of his trousers. Looking at all of the lengths of him, her core burned for connection again. She pressed her legs together to capture the sensation, then stretched and sat up, her long hair trickling down her back and around her nipples.

"So," she set her hands in the pool of blankets covering her lap, "What's on your agenda for today?"

Spock sat next to her, his weight on the mattress tipping her toward him slightly. "I have been assigned to coordinate personnel transfers to the planet, assist with patient intakes, and crowd control, now that the medical bivouacs are complete."

"Crowd control? You're not going to the surface, are you?"

"No. I will be providing overhead surveillance from the ship."

"Good," Nyota said, not wanting him on the planet until she knew the Ek'tevan Prerogative was abolished and he would be safe.

"I also have my session with Dr. Surrey," he said.

"Sounds like a _light_ day for a change."

"Yes."

"We deserve one."

"Yes -" Spock leaned in, putting his lips against the nearest nipple. His kiss lingered, and when he pulled away, Nyota's breast quivered from the release of his light suction.

A thrill rushed from her center, down her legs, and made her toes curl. "Okay," she giggled, "that's not helping me want to get out of bed and off to work, Commander."

Spock kissed her collarbone, the curve of her neck, her chin, and her mouth with the same soothing slowness. "K'diwa," he whispered against her lips.

"Ha, Spahk," she breathed back to him. _(Yes, Spock.)_

"Lu vesht tihet kanok-vei fi'Uzh T'Kashi - ish-veh nam-tor istau t'nash-veh ugau-tor kup du vah tel-katelau t'du t'nash-veh." _(When everything is stable on New Vulcan, it is my desire to pledge myself to you as your bond-mate.)_

"Trau'es ha?"_ (Honestly?)_

"Ha."_ (Yes.)_

Grinning, her teeth against his lips, Nyota asked, "Mnahik vesht nam-tor kup nash-veh, Zhel-lan Spahk, ha?" _(Are you proposing to me, Commander Spock?)_

Spock rested his forehead against hers. "Dav-tor ni nash-veh, ha." _(I believe so, yes.)_

"Dungi-stariben ra Sarek ha?" _(What will Sarek say?)_

"Dungil sa-veh vi storilal nash-veh." _(It was he who prompted me.)_

Nyota's grin deepened. "Maut ac'ruth t'du, nam-tor-fam du ha?" _(Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?)_

Spock kissed her nose and repeated, "Dav-tor ni nash-veh, ha." _(I believe so, yes.)_

Nyota chuckled and pulled back slightly, focusing on his face and eyes. "Rom'uh! Ki'vel nash-veh na'shar satikal. Eh svi'kilko tor mnah t'du - ek'stariben ki'nam-tor nash-veh - ha'uh eh pa'pon nam-tor ish-veh'uh!" _(Good! I've always had a thing for confident men. And in answer to your proposal, all I have to say is: yes! And it's about time!)_

* * *

On the flat pan of the Mazhiv Solai, Sa'aat, surrounded by a half dozen of his guards, stood at the head of the stasis chamber holding T'Cloo's body. Everyone was draped in formal robes, Sa'aat's white, the others' gray. Their robes flapped against their ankles in the early morning breeze, and sand sprayed over their boots with a soft, whispering hiss.

Sa'aat laid his hands on the chamber, and raised his face to the sky. "Dor-tor etek nash-gad vokaya t'T'Cloo - ko-fu t'Sti'ik," he began chanting. "Stariben skann-fam na'oko-veh - ni stariben etek na'oko-veh. Dor-tor etek nash-gad oko-veh - doran ko-fu - doran ko-mehk - doran wul'q'n. Noshau ha'kiv t'oko-veh wuhkuh t'dan-fudaya eh t'dan-vam fai'ei vesht tan-tor ha'kiv kup sa-fu t'Spahk - sa-fu t'Sarek oko-veh. Nam-tor ek'etek nelauk k'tevakh t'oko-veh." _(Today we honor the memory of T'Cloo, daughter of Sti'ik. No family speaks for her, so we speak for her. Today we honor her: the daughter, the mother, the Vulcan. Her life is one to be held in the highest regard and esteem, for she gave life to the son of Spock, son of Sarek. We are all diminished by her death.)_

Together, the group repeated in chorus, "Nam-tor ek'etek nelauk k'tevakh t'oko-veh." _(We are all diminished by her death.) _

"Tan-tor kup stukhtra t'oko-veh ak'shem ek'etek. Tal-tor lau kr'trkkla svi'yel oko-veh." _(We give her body to the universe. May she find peace among the stars.)_

"Tal-tor lau kr'trkkla svi'yel oko-veh." _(May she find peace among the stars.)_

"_Haulat._ Vitorau." (_Haulat_. _Activate.)_ The signature yellow-gold spray of the _Haulat's_ transporter beam enveloped the stasis chamber, and when it dissipated, the chamber was gone, released into space as millions of unrelated energy particles.

Sa'aat took a deep breath, then said, "Dungi-stariben fam veh t'dular Spahk pa'ish-veh." _(None of you will tell Spock about this.)_

"Ha, osu," each man said in sequence with a shallow bow. _(Yes, honored one.)_

* * *

Vulcans didn't exchange engagement rings, so the only evidence of Spock's initial declaration of _mnuh_ was Nyota's bright smile and the bounce in her step. Their shift seemed to breeze by, with chatter between the ships and the staff on the surface, and a few communiqués to update Starfleet Command on their progress; and even when he was called to the Medical Bay, Nyota's delighted grin didn't diminish. She probably assumed McCoy wanted to run a few follow-up scans on him before the doctor had to go back down to New Vulcan to help the medical teams there.

Spock, too, felt no dread or trepidation as he left the bridge. Since there was no declared emergency, he stopped briefly to sign some of the docket report PADDs various crewmembers raised as he passed them in the corridors. When he got to the bay, however, he was a bit surprised to find McCoy and Nurse Chapel standing together, looking apprehensive.

"Is something amiss, Doctor?" he asked.

"You might say that," McCoy answered. "Could you come with me, please?"

McCoy entered an intensive care unit ahead of him. Nurse Chapel followed, closing the door to give them some privacy.

Spock's eyes quickly adjusted to the room's dim light. The smelled of lavender, an over-scent used with sterilizing agents, filled the room; and everything was bathed in the blue light emanating from the isolette in the corner. Spock recognized the device immediately, and looked to McCoy with a hint of confusion on his face.

"We had a little bit of an emergency yesterday," McCoy began, stepping toward the isolette. Spock followed him. "- Had to deliver a premature baby by cesarean section."

"I was aware an emergency patient had been brought on board."

"Yeah, well... This particular patient now needs your assistance."

Looking into the isolette at the astonishingly tiny Vulcan infant, with its elongated and tapered ears and fluttering heartbeat displayed on the nearby monitor, the inference was clear, but Spock glanced at Dr. McCoy for verification anyway.

"He's yours. DNA confirms his paternity," the doctor said.

Spock's gaze returned to the infant. Its thin, elongated fingers flexed in its sleep. He rested his palm against the top of the isolette, but didn't reach with his mind to touch the infant's. "Which mother?"

McCoy cleared his throat. "Sa'aat knew that would be one of your first questions," he said. "He's the product of artificial insemination. Your sperm; T'Cloo's egg. It was T'Pau's idea. We don't know why. Sa'aat found him abandoned in a stasis tube in her desert hideout..."

McCoy felt a pang of shame at couching his answer. He and Sa'aat had actually rehearsed it, so McCoy could answer Spock's question honestly without being unduly graphic, and without hinting at the desecration of T'Cloo's body.

"Sa'aat knew about the child before our lunch yesterday."

"Uh, he might have, yeah."

"And he said nothing about it -"

"I think he was waiting for me to tell you... I wanted to make sure the baby was stabilized first." As Spock inched his fingers across the top of the isolette, still not attempting to feel for the infant's mind through the transparent barrier, McCoy added, "You're the child's next of kin, Spock... I need to know what you'd like to do with him."

"Do, Doctor?"

"He's only twenty-five weeks along, and requires on-going intensive care. Someone needs to take medical responsibility for him and sign off on any procedures he might require... As his biological father, that someone is you."

None of Spock's thoughts or feelings showed on his face. Objectively, he knew children from the Ek'tevan Prerogative were in his future, but he had not been prepared to meet any offspring so soon. And this child was something of a forgery, created from stolen DNA. Indecision fought with duty; paternal instincts fought with his slight revulsion over the child's conception... and there was the question of Nyota. As his future bond-mate, any decision he made about this child would also affect her.

In his office aboard the _Merton_, Dr. M'Benga was pulling together the last bits of information he wanted for the ship-to-shore medical confab that afternoon, when he came across the deep scans of the planet McCoy had requested several days ago. Most of it was mundane and repetitive; however, one word caught his eye: syncolchicine. The substance was in several native plants on the planet's surface. That in itself wasn't unusual. A similar substance was found on Earth in crocus plants. What tugged at his brain was the notion he'd seen the word listed in several reports but couldn't remember which ones, so he performed a computer search. After a few seconds, fifty-three additional references to the word appeared on the monitor. M'Benga read each of them.

* * *

"Another incoming transmission, Captain," Nyota said to Kirk. They had been coming in all morning from arriving ships, Vulcans approaching their new planet for the first time from all over the galaxy to attend the Council Meeting. "This one is from the _Sov-Masu-Thek_."(2)

"Put it on the viewer, Lieutenant." The view screen first lit up with the image of a small, obviously quite old, but exquisitely maintained, Vulcan ship approaching on a horizontal vector. Then the image dissolved and was replaced by one of several Vulcan males standing in a loose cluster near the pilot's seat of their ship. They were all of different ages, but all with their heads shaved, and one was wearing a bright silver skullcap similar to the one Stenn had worn.

Kirk introduced himself. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_."

The man in skull cap spoke. "Nam-tor nash-veh Tela'at Sepek t'Sutra t'Ip-sut."

Kirk turned to Nyota for a translation. She stepped away from her station to stand beside his command chair, and said, "He is the Elder Sepek of the People of Ip-sut. He's speaking in Golic Vulcan, Captain, but his accent suggests his first language is Ancient Vulcan, which means he's been a cloistered and distinguished Kolinahru for most of his adult life. When you address him, speak with the utmost reverence."

"How may we assist you, Osu?"

"Very good," Nyota whispered.

"Thanks," Kirk whispered back to her with a covert smile.

Regardless of what language Sepek chose to speak in, he obviously understood Federation Standard, because he answered without waiting for a translation, "Kal-tor k'vath-tor vi'pa-yut hali t'nash-veh," said Sepek.

"He wants you to allow his vessel to enter into orbit."

"Certainly, Osu," Kirk replied to the screen. "If you will permit me to scan your vessel first - "

"Ha, faitor."

"He says, all right, continue."

"Mister Chekhov," Kirk prompted his junior officer.

"Aye, Captain. Scanning now... _Sov-Masu-Thek_ ... Vulcan ring-ship, shuttle, Captain, with a compliment of five crewmembers and fourteen passengers. All Vulcans. Minimal defensive weaponry only."

"Vesht vravshau-fam etek sahrafel nash-veh nisan t'du, Khart-Lan Kirk."

"He says he trusts they passed your test, Captain."

"Yes, you did, Osu. Thank you for your cooperation. I hope to -" Sepek shut off the transmission, and the screen returned to an image of the starfield and planet below. Kirk looked to Nyota. "Well, that was rude; he hung up on me."

"He's from an ancient Sect, Captain. They believe in getting to the point and getting things done without a lot of superfluous chit-chat. And as an Elder, Sepek is no doubt used to being in complete control of whatever circumstance he finds himself in. When he's done with something, he's done; and he's used to everyone around him understanding that and accepting it without complaint."

"That's going to make it hard for him to work with the other Sects on New Vulcan, isn't it?"

"Yes and no. The younger ones might object to his behavior, but the older ones will understand and attempt to accommodate him."

"Another incoming vessel," Lieutenant Sulu announced from his seat at the navigation console.

"On screen." Once more the main viewer lit up with the image of a ship approaching the planet. This was a much smaller vessel, somewhat ovoid in shape, and upon seeing it Kirk remarked, "Wow. Now, that's an antique. What would you guess, Sulu? Late twenty-first century?"

"If that; it's amazing the thing still runs! They're hailing us."

"Open a channel."

The image on the screen changed to show a single male Vulcan standing at the communications station. His grizzled hair hung loosely down around his shoulders, and he had a full beard. "Federation vessel, this is the cargo ship, _Odva_, requesting permission to enter orbit." (3)

* * *

After T'Cloo's funeral, Sa'aat and his guards regrouped in a small apartment near the city's edge, close to the gate that opened onto the hive of Federation medical bivouacs. He reviewed the security measures for the upcoming Council Meeting and ran a few scenarios through a training program to see how they panned out. When he felt he was as prepared as he and his guards could be, he dismissed them... all but a female named T'Janikrel, and Sionak.

Sionak shut the door, and took a position in front of it, his arms folded across his chest. T'Janikrel, one of the few women who had escaped the Ek'tevan Prerogative without becoming pregnant, looked to Sa'aat. He crossed the room to the window, and stood in front of it with his back to her. Even with both exits barred, T'Janikrel remained composed and dispassionate, asking simply, "Osu ha?" _(My lord?)_

"Toranik vesht nam-tor ki'du, T'Janikrel," Sa'aat said without looking at her. _(You have been busy, T'Janikrel.)_

She shrugged and nodded. "Vesht nam-tor ki'ek'etek, osu, datorik na'Latva t'Shikh-orna - glantauik su-thro t'Teraya - " _(We __all__ have been, my lord, preparing for the Council Meeting, watching the Federation personnel...)_

"Hi na'vesht nam-tor whe-toranik whe-kauk du." _(But you have been busier still.)_

"Ken-tor-fam nash-veh." _(I do not understand.)_

Sa'aat turned toward her, leaning back so his buttocks and palms were resting against the windowsill. "Ri ha? Starpa'shau-tor kal-tor nash-veh yi. Zupik ne'osular dahkuh nam-tor zungor bolayatik." _(No? Allow me to clarify, then. Laboring under two masters must be tiring.)_

"Dahkuh, osu ha?" _(Two, my lord?)_

"Ha. T'nash-veh heh T'Pau." _(Yes. Myself and T'Pau.)_

T'Janikrel said nothing, but lowered her eyes so Sa'aat could not read what was written in them. She lightly licked her lips. In spite her outward composure, her pulse quickened in her throat.

"Wafu-fam ish-veh du," Sa'aat said to her. _(You deny it not.)_

T'Janikrel kept her eyes down and clenched her fists at her sides. "Kup-fam nash-veh. Stariben-fam riyeht-zhit wul'q'n." _(I cannot. Vulcans do not speak false-words/lie.)_

"Var-tor yeht'es nash-veh yi, Trau Wul'q'n. Vesht gol-tor stron-tor vi vi'Mazhiv Solai ko-veh nam-tor du - vesht ro'fori-tor vi T'Pau t'lashan t'nash-veh du - fo-fan vi i'rum ko-veh du. _(Tell me the truth, then, Honest Vulcan. It was you who helped her to escape into the Mazhiv Solai; you who informed T'Pau of my arrival; you who shield her even now.)_

"Kuv fai-tor ek du, osu, wugau-fam bolau ish-veh nash-veh." _(If you know all, master, I need not confirm it.)_

"Kuv shi'kar ek'fai-tor nash-veh, T'Janikrel, tra'vesht dungi-lamok-fam tra nam-tor ek' heh ek'man'es du." _(Should I seek to know all, T'Janikrel, you would not be standing there whole and safe.)_

" Shtau-fam nan du, osu." _(Threats do not become you, my lord.)_

"Eh shtau-fam riveht-kyi'i du'uh." _(And bravado/false bravery does not become __you__.) _Sa'aat took a deep breath, and released it slowly. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, "Afsakau-tor T'Zaled nash-veh than-fam du ha?" _(You swore/proclaimed the Blood-Oath to me, did you not?)_

"Ha, osu." _(Yes, my lord.)_

"Tvai than ish-veh ri-ish na'du ha?" _(Does it mean nothing to you?)_

"Ri." _(No.)_ T'Janikrel said, raising her chin high, lifting her eyes to meet Sa'aat's. She had intended to stare him directly in the face, to show him her resolve, but when she met his stony gaze, she lost her nerve, and looked past him, out the window.

"Ti tvaik-fam nam-tor trau'es t'du, zhit t'du." _(Then your honesty, your word, is meaningless.)_

"Nam-tor dushu tu," Sionak said from his station in front of the door. _(You are a fool.)_

"Ved ha?" T'Janikrel asked, keeping her attention on Sa'aat, as he was the only real threat in the room. "Eh tor ra du maut klon Sionak ha? Dvin-tor osu vi vesht tor pa-shik ish-veh than-fam aitlu hafau-tor fi'ek'tra ish-veh heh gol'nev sular t'sa-veh ha?" _(Really? And what makes you so very smart, Sionak? Serving a master who has made it clear he doesn't want to stay on this planet and help his people?)_ Her fists still tight at her sides, she added to Sa'aat, "Nam-tor ek'etek koshtri-vesht-vitehvar. Dungi-than kanok-vie'uh ma-tor rish-tor nash-veh - ruhm kuv tvai ish-veh nartauik nemut." _(We are an endangered species. I will do __whatever__ I have to, to survive... even if it means embracing the enemy.)_

"Ni nam-tor ish-veh." _(So be it.)_ Sa'aat stood up straight, and pulled his lipitah slowly from its sheath on his belt. "Yi sehsau wun t'du - eh gla-tor kuv kup rish-tor nash-veh'uh du." _(Then take up your weapon... and see if you can survive __me__.) _

T'Janikrel didn't even have time to grab the phaser at her waistband before Sa'aat's blade hit her in the skull with a sickening *crack*.

* * *

Christine asked her to come to the Medical Bay over the ship's intercom, and Nyota's heart caught in her chest for an instant. Spock had just been called there, and she worried something must have happened to him. She glanced at Captain Kirk to obtain his leave to go, and was surprised to see him smiling at her reassuringly.

"Captain?" she asked, frowning, knowing he was something of a prankster. "Is this... some kind of joke?" If it was, she didn't find it funny at all.

The captain shook his head. "It's no joke, Lieutenant." McCoy had briefed him earlier on the child's health and probable paternity. And he was rather excited to know that Spock now had a son. "It's okay," he promised. "Go ahead."

"Thank you, sir," Nyota murmured as she walked swiftly to the turbolift.

Christine was waiting for her outside of the ICU room and gave her hand a squeeze as she opened the door saying, "It's okay, honey. Don't worry."

"When people keep telling me _'it's okay'_, it usually means something's not okay. You're freaking me out, Christine. What's going on?" Chapel pointed to Spock who stood beside an isolette, one hand behind his back, one hand resting on the lid of the unit.

He extended the hand he held behind him to her. "K'diwa, we must talk."

Christine smiled, gave Nyota a little shove into the room, and closed the door, leaving them alone. Nyota padded quietly across the room - she didn't know why she always did that in hospitals, but she did - and took Spock's hand. She looked into the isolette, frowning. She blinked at the tiny baby there, before remembering, "Dr. McCoy had called in yesterday asking for clearance to bring a preemie aboard for treatment..."

"Yes," said Spock.

"And this is that preemie?"

"Yes."

Nyota's mind went blank for a moment. "Why would we be called from our posts for this child? It isn't ours..."

"Not ours, but mine, k'diwa," Spock explained softly.

"What - ?"

"It is T'Pau's doing; what Humans would call a test-tube baby; from T'Cloo's ovum and my sa-nei-masu, maintained inside a stasis chamber hidden on the Mazhiv Solai. When Sa'aat went to capture T'Pau, she had abandoned it in order to save herself."

"T'Pau grew a dead woman's baby..." she said without a hint of emotion in her voice. "And it's part yours?"

"Yes," his voice sounded distant, as though he was in another room, muffled by a roar that sounded like rushing water. She felt sick to her stomach, a little faint. She remembered making a remark to Christine - Was it a week ago? Two? - about T'Pau siccing _"her she-zombies on Spock"_ (4),and it struck her that her description had been more apt than she'd ever thought it to be. Here was Spock's child, gleaned from a dead woman. Nyota shook her head, taking a step back. Spock did not release her hand, nor did he press her for a response. He remained silent, waiting for her to process the information in her own way.

"That's disgusting," she muttered, tears filling her eyes. "It's disgusting." Spock channeled support and comfort through his touch, and her breathing evened out slightly under his influence. Still, she trembled all over, and she felt she might be going into shock. Even her lips were trembling, and she covered them with her free hand to stop them, but her hand was shaking, too. Feelings of persecution, outrage, and shame threaten to overwhelm her. She had carried herself with poise and dignity for months now; suffering a modest meltdown felt more than justifiable.

"How could she do this?" her voice caught in her throat. "Use people like this... make other people's children without anyone's permission... I... Why is the Universe deliberately picking on us? We barely recover from one trauma before something else is hurled at us. We're good people. What have we done to deserve this? I don't understand," she gestured at the infant. "Why is this happening?"

She didn't expect an answer from him, the questions were rhetorical, and she knew Spock understood. He let her continue. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do; what am I supposed to feel?" she said, still shaking. "It's a baby... It's innocent... But what am I supposed to do?" She looked into Spock's eyes as tears dripped from her chin. "Am I supposed to just accept it? Take it in like it's my own... some dead woman's baby? I can't! I won't!"

Spock drew her toward him, feeling the edge of her emotions cutting through his fingertips as he gripped her hand.

She tried to shake him off. "No. No more... no more!"

He wrapped his arms around her. Last night, she had been all water and soft heat; now she felt like stone. The transformations made possible by emotions were remarkable, he thought.

She damned his Vulcan strength before letting him support her when her legs gave out. She sobbed desperately into his chest, sometimes hitting him with her fists, not in an attempt to hurt him but in order to release her anger at this situation. And he took it all in silence: letting her scream and cry when he himself could not, letting her express, what, under his own still features, lay hidden. Eventually, without pushing it, he allowed his calm to bleed into her through his skin, through his breath, and let her take in as much of it as she wanted, until she was mostly recovered from the shock.

"Straiben kau-bosh ish kup-fam nam-tor vesht fukat-tor ek'zer rik'tetalaya il vesht buhfik-tor rik'thonaya sular," he whispered, his lips brushing her forehead. _(The wise say that the gem cannot be polished without friction, nor the person perfected without anguish.)_

"Ha - muhl, vesh'stariben ish-vi nam-tor pekh-vat t'kenel," Nyota pouted. _(Yes, well, whoever said that was a horse-like-animal's rectum.) _Spock's eyebrows arched in surprised, and he tried to hide his expression from her by putting his face against her hair.

After a few minutes, she turned, rested her head on his shoulder and mumbled, "Sorry."

"No apologies are necessary," Spock said softly.

"Not even for the horse's ass remark?"

"I believe we can overlook one such metaphor given the circumstances."

Nyota rubbed her eyes, breaking the psionic contact between them. She stood back a fraction, and resting her forearms against his chest and her palms on his shoulders, looked into his eyes - large, dark, Human eyes that spoke only of the love he couldn't otherwise convey in words - and then looked at the infant again. She shook her head, as though denying its existence, but asked, "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy."

She sighed. "What do you want to do?"

"I have not had adequate time to make a long-term decision; however, I would like to acknowledge him as mine, and take medical responsibility for him, so he can get the treatment he needs. I have decided nothing beyond that. I wanted to speak with you first."

"Well, at this moment, my head's a mess, so - I don't think I can be much help to you; for now, I'll go along with whatever you decide. We can't - we can't just ditch the little thing like T'Pau did. Someone has to take care of it..." She was aware that she kept referring to the infant as "it" instead of "him," but she couldn't help it. With all the probes attached to it, and the mask over its eyes to protect them from the phototherapy rays, the infant didn't look real. "Can we touch it?"

Spock took her hands again, caressing them, and held them against his chest. "Not at the moment. Dr. McCoy says his skeletal structure and skull are too soft, too malleable; even gentle touch may be damaging to him. In another few days, he may be less fragile."

"Okay - " was all she could get out before Spock nodded, and hugged her close again.

* * *

Dr. McCoy sat in his office with a cup of coffee that had gone cold sitting beside the com-link screen. Spock had taken medical responsibility for his child - which he hadn't named yet, so he was being referred to as "Baby S" for the time-being, and Lieutenant Uhura had just gone through a minor breakdown. McCoy had been hoping for a few hours to work on his presentation for the confab when M'Benga called. "Okay," he took a sip of cold coffee, grimaced, and set it aside. "Tell me, again, what the big deal is."

Dr. M'Benga said, "Look at the levels of syncolchicine mentioned in each of these reports."

"Yeah, okay... I see trace levels in the plak-tau drug, less than one milligram per kilogram in the hybrid grains the Vulcans developed to grow in the desert environment, less than one milligram per kilogram in some of the seedless fruit they're producing, a naturally occurring zero-point-three level in the main water sources on the planet... So? Those aren't even close to toxic levels."

"Syncolchicine isn't completely metabolized by Vulcan physiology. Trace amounts always remain in the body."

"Yes, but Vulcans have a much higher tolerance to it than Humans do. So, I repeat: what's the big deal?"

M'Benga maintained the stoic façade he had cultivated over his years practicing Vulcan medicine. "Keeping those references in mind, Leonard, now, think in terms of drug interactions," he said calmly.

"Ooookay."

"Over the past several months, the entire population of New Vulcan has been ingesting trace amounts of syncolchicine - stockpiling it in their cells. In itself, that wouldn't prove much of a problem unless the exposure was prolonged, or something happened to augment the level of toxicity."

"Right - "

"After the Vulcans arrived on their new planet, they inoculated everyone to stave off the native bacteria and viruses until their bodies could form natural antibodies against them."

"That's standard procedure on all colony planets. Shots of corophizine**, **clarithromycin, telithromycin, and the like -" McCoy paused, thinking about what he had just said before realizing: "Oh, my God..."

"Exactly," said M'Benga. "When the females under the Ek'tevan Prerogative became pregnant, they were also treated with an aprepitant derivative for acute nausea, and given an herbal supplement made with ginkgo biloba and the native fruit slor-savas, a citrus fruit heavy with CYP3a4-class enzymes."(5)

"All those substances can interact with syncolchicine to increase its toxicity..."

"And syncolchicine attacks fast-replicating cells - " (6)

"- Like in a placenta."

"Or an infant. Toxicity can also result in azoospermia."(7)

"Good lord."

"Now, we need to double check our findings to be sure, but - "

"No buts, M'Benga," Dr. McCoy said, shaking his head. "We need to get Dr. T'Kree on the line, now!"

* * *

Spock walked through the Cargo Bay, clipboard PADD in hand, signing off on all the final departures of personnel and equipment going to the planet. There was no hint of the turmoil raging within him over T'Cloo's abandoned infant and its effect on his pledges and responsibilities to Nyota. He remained poised and professional, saying all the proper "pleases" and "thank you's" required, until everyone and everything was where they should be. He gave the bay a final scan, and headed toward his session with Dr. Surrey.

The doctor smiled at him from his desk, when Spock, as he always did, arrived precisely on time for his session. Today Surrey wore a pair of open-toed sandals over his socks, and a long-sleeved white shirt, with a line of unbuttoned constellation-shaped buttons down the front of it and on the cuffs, over his black undershirt.

"Where do you get your wardrobe, doctor?" Spock asked as he sat in the blue chair.

"Oh, here and there," Surrey answered, leaving his desk to take the plaid chair across from Spock, PADD in hand. The seating arrangement had become almost habitual for them. "This shirt is from my niece, actually. She made it herself."

"Really? How old is she?"

"Um, let's see... twenty-nine."

"Is she new to the seamstress field?"

"No, not really..." Surrey looked at his shirt. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"The sleeves are different lengths, the darts in the back are misaligned, and the button holes are too small for the buttons chosen..."

"Just the way I like it!" Surrey smiled. "Things don't have to be perfect to be comfortable, Mister Spock. Now," he said, a little more seriously, "I heard you got some interesting news this morning. Do you want to talk about it?"

"You mean the child."

"Yes. McCoy's been calling him _'Baby S_'? You haven't decided on a name yet?"

"No," said Spock. "Although, I do admit the child has been on my mind. I am finding it difficult to think of him as 'mine', as he was created by a process far removed from me. While there is no denying his genetics - physiologically, the child is of my blood - accepting him seems difficult for me."

_That was remarkably honest,_ Surrey thought. _And he's referring to the child as "him" and "he," so he's already accepted him as an individual, a real person._

"He is an infant, an innocent... and a child of New Vulcan; the first of the Taluhk Tan.(8) He is special. Unique. Yet he is also a child born of theft and treachery. Part of me wishes to emancipate him, while another part wishes to cling to him. Even giving him a name seems a daunting task."

"If you name him, then you're proclaiming your right to name him under Vulcan tradition; you'd be accepting him as a father. Naming him also acknowledges him as an individual, with rights and privileges of his own."

"Precisely."

"And you're not quite ready for that, yet."

"Evidently."

"Part of the disconnect you're feeling may be because you haven't had the opportunity to touch him or hold him yet. Once you're able to interact with him, you might feel differently."

"Perhaps," Spock said. "However, I am unsure if Nyota - Lieutenant Uhura - will ever be able to accept him. Meeting him was quite a shock for her."

"I bet it was. But let me handle that. Right now, I want you to focus on you: what you think, how you feel."

"I believe, for the first time, Doctor, I understand what Humans mean when they speak of an _'emotional roller-coaster'_."

"Have you ever been on a roller coaster, Mister Spock?"

"Yes. Once. With Lieutenant Uhura, on the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz on Earth. That was also the first time I had ever eaten cotton candy, a confection for which I find no purpose whatsoever," Spock recalled. He was quiet for a moment, and then continued with his original train of thought. "The sensation of weightlessness in opposition to the intense gravimetric pull produced by the roller coaster was akin to the elation I experienced last evening with Lieutenant Uhura, and the desolation I initially felt when I realized the disposition of T'Cloo's child was solely in my hands..."

"Yep; the roller coaster effect can be very disorienting."

"Yes..."

"However, the promise of a roller coaster is that eventually it stops, and you step out onto level ground again."

"You have a talent for seeing the positive side of many situations, Doctor Surrey."

"It's kind of my job, Mister Spock. If I wasn't able to see the silver lining to my patients' clouds, I wouldn't be much use as a therapist, now would I?"

"Does your optimism ever fail you?"

"Not for very long. I'm too much of an idealist to let anything keep me down."

"Are you optimistic about my ability to act as father to this child?"

"You're not?"

"Not entirely. Even if I do my duty towards him, take him in, educate him, give him guidance, I do not know if I could ever love him. For a child to grow up unloved by his father is -" Spock shook his head, unable to put such a tragedy into words.

"Did you feel unloved as a child, Mister Spock?"

"No," Spock said, before hedging a bit. "My mother loved me; she was very demonstrative... much to my father's chagrin. Even now, her katra sings to me when I enter the room in which it resides."

"But you question your father's love?"

"At times. He has never been less than a father to me. Sarek can be quite formidable, however, and when I was growing up, I often found myself on the antithetical side of his approval. We argued often. He was humiliated and disappointed when I entered Starfleet, even though he never spoke of it and I believe he understood my reasons. I felt I was... a disappointment to him. I sometimes still feel thus. Since my mother's death, however, as odd as it seems to me, he has been far more benevolent and liberal with his praise than I have ever known him to be. He even encouraged me to propose to Lieutenant Uhura."

"Really? Did you? Propose, I mean?"

"I made the first pronouncements of my intentions yesterday evening, yes."

"She accepted?"

"Of course."

Surrey smiled. _Only Spock could say something that definitive and not sound like a conceited ass in the process_, he thought. "And right on the heels of that, you're confronted with T'Cloo's baby."

"Yes... As I said: an emotional roller coaster."

* * *

Dr. T'Kree listened to Drs. McCoy and M'Benga, remaining inexpressive throughout. She also studied their reports, taking the information in through her eyes at the same time her brain absorbed the auditory input. When the men finished speaking, they quietly awaited her response. T'Kree sat back in her chair and steepled her fingers in front of her, thinking for several minutes before speaking.

"The evidence supports your conclusions. Your science is sound," she acknowledged. "Our oversight is both unexplainable and inexcusable."

"No one is blaming you, ma'am," McCoy said. "It's not like Vulcans didn't have a million other things to keep track of after you lost your homeworld, and relocated here. It's not surprising this was overlooked. I didn't see it until Dr. M'Benga pointed it out to me. Besides, Vulcans have a high tolerance to syncolchicine; and the grain, the fruit, the water, the supplements, the antibiotics and antivirals aren't dangerous. It's just when they're all combined that we have a problem... At least we know now the plak-tau drug isn't responsible for the problem pregnancies."

"This is not to say," Dr. M'Benga put in, "we consider the plak-tau drug itself to be safe. We are still investigating its components, and its long-term impact on your male population. We are stating that the plak-tau drug doesn't seem to be a factor in the chain of events leading to the females' problem pregnancies."

"Wow," McCoy muttered. "There's nothing like kicking her when she's down."

"Vulcans prefer a straightforward, factual approach to things," M'Benga told him.

"Yes," said T'Kree. "We do, and the facts are we must immediately begin testing the entire planetary population for syncolchicine poisoning. Will the Federation be able to assist us in this endeavor?"

"Absolutely," McCoy said without so much as a pause to consider the request. "The bivouacs are set up and ready for patients. We can clue the medical teams in on this latest information during our ship-to-shore briefing this afternoon."

* * *

"I am responsible for the death of the child's mother. And T'Cloo has no surviving family members," Spock reminded Dr. Surrey, as he stood next to the shelving unit with the Vulcan figures on it,

"You're not to blame for her death. She was a victim of circumstance."

"Regardless. She is dead... and it was my hand which killed her. I feel I owe it to the child to compensate him some way for that..."

"Being a dad out of guilt is worse than not being a dad at all, Mister Spock. You don't want to heap your emotional baggage on him; he's going to have a hard enough time as it."

"Being a hybrid, you mean."

"Well, no, that's not what I meant. I meant that he's a preemie, and he'll probably have a lifetime of medical issues to contend with. But now that you mention it, if the old prejudices still exist on New Vulcan, then, yes, he'll have his mixed heritage to deal with, too. Who would be more able to help him with that than you, Mister Spock?"

Spock took in a deep breath and released it slowly, unsure of himself or what he should do next.

"If you don't feel you can handle being a father to the child, you still have options: adoption for instance," Dr. Surrey suggested.

Standing next to the shelving unit with the Vulcan figures on it, Spock shook his head. "Then he may grow up feeling as disconnected and as disfavored by his father as I often felt."

"Adopted children don't always feel like they weren't wanted by their biological parents. Look at little Tasmeen. She seems content to be adopted by Sarek."

"Tasmeen's circumstances are different. She grew up cherished; she knew her parents loved her. They didn't abandon her; they died."

"You feel if you gave up your child for adoption, you'd be _willingly abandoning_ him?"

"Yes," Spock said frankly. "How would it be any different than T'Pau leaving him in the desert to die?"

"Don't look now, Mister Spock, but I believe you've just made a decision about whether or not to keep Baby S."

Spock cocked an eyebrow, and admitted, "Yes, Doctor. It seems I have."

* * *

Near dusk, Sa'aat sat on the edge of a portable biobed in one of the medical bivouacs, watching as Christine drew a blood sample from the vein in the crook of his elbow; the dark green fluid percolated into the clear end of the hypodermic with a slight gurgling hiss. Finished, Christine popped the clear end off the needle, shook the sample slightly, and set it into a small scanner on an adjacent cart.

"The biobed cannot tell you if I am poisoned?" Sa'aat asked.

"It could if we asked it to, but this test is more definitive. It will give us a breakdown of exactly how much, if any, syncolchicine is in your system," she answered. "It'll only take a few minutes, if you want to wait."

"Thank you, I will." Sa'aat rolled his sleeve down and hopped off the bed, looking at the other patients - more females than males - and the clutter of equipment and personnel all around him. Everyone was getting blood tests, and the females were being fitted with MAGGIe's and assigned specific doctors for the remainder of their pregnancies.

Some Humans had remarked it was _'the quietest bunch of MHU's' _they had ever manned. There were no complaints, no groans, and no arguments from the Vulcans; rather, they were all polite. "It's more like being in a church than an emergency room," one nurse had said, and in response, an Ionian team of medical technicians had smiled unanimously and said, "Thank you," in chorus. They took full credit for the serene environment, pointing out that they had designed and implemented the wall-sized screens that projected soothing imagery of broad, waving fields of grass and ocean waves for the bivouacs. No one had the heart to tell them the motion on the screens made some of the patients and staff nauseous.

"Has Spock been tested yet?" Sa'aat asked.

"Yes. And Sarek, and the rest of the Fonn Vuhlkansu, as well," Christine smiled up at him. He stood a full foot taller than her; and she could feel the heat radiating from his lean, solid presence. The frankincense-like scent that emanated from him tickled her nose; Spock had a similar scent, and Christine loved it. So did Nyota, as far as she could tell. She sometimes found Nyota dressed in a robe or sweater Spock had recently shrugged off, just so she could wrap herself in his scent and carry it around with her.

"Would it be a breach of client confidentiality if you told me what his test results were?"

"What?" Christine shook herself out of her reverie. "Uh, yes. And as you're not kin, I can't even refer you to his files."

"I see."

"I _can_ tell you the Vulcans who have been living off-planet registered negative for syncolchicine because they never went through the vaccination process, and never ate the native plants or drank the native water. And because the males on the planet weren't given the supplements or anti-nausea medications the pregnant females were, they're testing on the low side for syncolchicine."

"The pregnant females took the brunt of it."

"It seems that way, yes."

"That is a disconcerting oversight on the part of the Vulcan Medical staff."

"Yes, but... they've had a lot of stuff to deal with."

"Vulcans are generally well equipped to handle _'a lot of stuff'_ simultaneously."

Christine shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you."

Sa'aat was quiet for a few moments, and then said, "It is fortunate the Federation made its discovery when it did."

"Yeah. We rock," Christine grinned. The scanner beside her beeped twice and ejected the blood sample phial. She tapped a few commands into the unit, and turned the readout screen toward Sa'aat so he could read it. "You're levels are on the low side, but we'd still like to put you through a phase of syncolchicine-specific antibody treatment."

"Perhaps later," Sa'aat said, heading away from the bed.

Christine caught his muscular arm, and struggling against the urge to squee like a besotted teenager, said, "Wait a minute. You plan to walk around with a low-grade poison in you?"

Sa'aat extricated his limb from her grasp, "It is not the first time," he said, as he headed out the front of the bivouac.

* * *

(1) **Lok**: the Vulcan word for penis.

(2) **Sov-Masu-Thek**: the Vulcan term for "Raindrop".

(3) **Odva**: a Vulcan word meaning "faith".

(4) **She-zombies:** this is in reference to a quote in Chapter 7 of this story in which Nyota said: _"Here we are, being careful; me getting my shots every month so there aren't any surprises... and then that bitch, T'Pau, comes along and sics her she-zombies on Spock, and everything gets loused up... And poor Spock. My intellectually dazzling, endearing, beautiful, chivalrous Spock. He's trying to do the right thing by everyone, but he doesn't even know who everyone is, or what the right thing would be. He doesn't even know the __half__ of it." _

(5) **Slor-savas:** Literally translated from the Vulcan it means "sweet fruit"; a sweet citrus fruit native to New Vulcan. The CYP3a4 enzyme is one found in citrus fruits, like the grapefruit on Earth, and can interact with syncolchicine to form a toxic substance. **Author's Note**: The enzyme is real, but the fruit and "syncolchicine" are not canon; I made them up myself.

(6) **Syncolchicine:** The information on this kind of poisoning came from a variety of sources about the toxic substance on Earth know as "colchicine", including but not limited to Wikipedia, the FDA, the US National Library of Medicine, the RXList, and the Mayo Clinic websites. I, of course, added a few Vulcan-related twists to it that aren't part of the pure science, but the basic information is accurate. Colchicine (on which my "syncolchicine" is based) is a toxic substance found in various plants that is often used for the treatment of autoimmune diseases like gout and rheumatoid arthritis. In large doses it can poison the subject. Combined with other substances, it has been used to create fruits and grains like seedless watermelon and hybrid triticale. Because it, in its poisonous form, it attacks rapidly-developing cells (like cancer cells) while leaving more slowly developing cells alone, it is often a component of chemotherapy. When mixed with other drugs like antibacterial, antifungal, or antiviral medications, the enzyme found in citrus fruit like grapefruit, and/or other herbs and additives, the toxicity of the Cochicine can be magnified. **Author's Note:** I became aware of Colchicine myself when it was used in my own chemotherapy "cocktail" in 2003. It was one of the drugs that effectively put me into menopause, and made my hair fall out.

(7) **Azoospermia**: a complete lack of sperm. On Earth, adult males affected by colchicine toxicity may suffer from temporary azoospermia; whereas, developing male fetuses may be born with malformed sex organs, or be unable to produce large quantities of healthy sperm as they mature. I used this same information to correlate to my "syncolchicine" toxin.

(8) **Taluhk Tan:** translated literally from the Vulcan, it means "precious gift". In my previous story, Sa'aat explained, _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative stipulates that offspring generated by the artificial plak-tau are to be considered Taluhk Tan and a new hope for the prolongation of our race. They will want for nothing." _


	24. Chapter 24

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the beta-ed version. The conversation between Spock and Dr. Surrey has been expanded a little bit, and my beta Farstrider did an EXCELLENT job of tightening up the rest of it. I hope that getting the un-beta-ed, and then the beta-ed versions isn't too confusing. Some readers have asked me to post more quickly between chapters, so I'm trying to accomodate them.

THANKS FOR READING! And I LOVE your comments and input, by the way; keep them coming!

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:**

Ionian, Denobulan and Human medical team members clogged the streets of Svitan'Kahr just after dawn the following morning, mostly engaging in their morning constitutionals and sightseeing before they had to tend to their patients, and before the oppressive afternoon heat set in. Leaning against the Cathedral's wall as he waited for Ste've, Sa'aat logged all their features, body types, and postures into his memory for future reference. He wasn't there to people-watch, however; he wanted another look at the structure's security systems before tomorrow's meeting between the full Council and the Sects petitioning for inclusion in the New Vulcan government. He felt confident he was well prepared, but he wanted to ascertain that no last minute changes had been made to the Formal Chamber.

Some passersby jogged past him, giving him a glance or a wave, others ambled by, involved in private banter with their companions, or making no effort to acknowledge him. There were also Vulcans in the crowd, mostly females fitted with MAGGIes who were finally able to get out of bed and move around with some semblance of normalcy. While some were out for a morning stroll, or walking meditation, the majority were heading to the Federation bivouacs to set up follow-up appointments prior to the birth of their children, or for blood tests and scans for birth defects in light of the syncolchicine issue. Others, who hadn't gotten to the dispensary the afternoon before, were going to be fitted for MAGGIes.

According to his intelligence, some women had been so stupefied during their plak-taus they were still unsure of the identities of their children's fathers, and, not trusting that the Vulcan medical community had provided them with accurate information, sought the Federation medical teams to help them confirm paternity. This lack of faith in Vulcan medical practitioners could prove thorny in the long-term: The Federation might have to set up a permanent, on-planet facility just to help the population feel safe with a readily available "second opinion." Such an action would be unprecedented in Vulcan history, and would be a major embarrassment to the Vulcan Medical Facility staff and board. Not that they didn't already have a major embarrassment on their hands. The syncolchicine oversight was one they might never live down, especially, if the long-term after-effects directly inhibited future reproduction.

This sifted through part of Sa'aat's mind, while other parts ran through defense scenarios, touched upon the twins and their unborn children, the offer of the position of Solai-Lan, Spock, and T'Janikrel. He felt no guilt over killing her; she had violated the T'Zaled and he had been within his rights to execute her. Her betrayal was difficult to fathom or swallow, however. He had known her for almost two years; she was skilled and he had hoped to make her one of his protégés. She was skilled - her ability to deceive him for so long was evidence of that - and her disloyalty was difficult to fathom, or swallow. He had known for months that there were at least one, possibly two betrayers among his ranks, and had she not been so openly arrogant, he might have overlooked her. Surviving the destruction of Vulcan had made her believe she was somehow indestructible, and evading Sa'aat himself for so long had added to her feelings of invincibility. Self-assured, she grew careless, letting a hint slip here, a transmission go unguarded there. In the end, it was her own conceit that had done her in.

Nevertheless, her words, when she had questioned Sionak's intelligence and decried Sa'aat as a master _"who has made it clear he doesn't want to stay on this planet and help his people..."_,clung to his brain. Despite her duplicity and sham oaths of allegiance to him, there was truth in those words. How could he ask for everlasting loyalty from his klashausu if he was unwilling to make a long-term commitment to them and their new home world?

As much as he enjoyed, and often needed, his independence, staying on New Vulcan for the time being did have multiple advantages. It would keep him close to Sarek and the Fonn Vuhlkansu, allowing him to protect them when need be, and being close to Sarek, meant Sa'aat could also monitor Spock, where he was, how he was progressing. If Sa'aat accepted the position of Solai-Lan, he also would be at the forefront of any peace treaties or boundary issues brought before the Ministry. He would have the opportunity to devise and develop a new militia for the planet, establish schools of discipline and training, expand the elite guard, perhaps even actualize ra-de'kutha (1) - the pursuit of which he had been considering for decades. It would certainly keep his stimuli-ravenous brain occupied.

He would also be able to pursue his parents' murderers and open an investigation into the syncolchicine poisoning of his people. While it appeared to be an accidental oversight, it could be something more nefarious; the possibility gnawed at the back of his mind that if enemies of the Vulcan people wanted to ensure the population's final extermination, subjecting them to a naturally existing, slowly accumulating toxin that affected procreation would be the perfect way to do it.

On a personal note, remaining on New Vulcan would allow Sa'aat to participate in the education, training, and spirituality of his children, and provide them guidance in traditional Vulcan rituals such as the than-tha and mok farr (2). Such a commitment would require perhaps thirty years, as he waited for them to reach maturity; but even if he remained the entire three decades, Vulcans were long-lived; Sa'aat would only be in his early eighties, merely middle-aged by Vulcan standards. He would still have another 'lifetime,' as Humans measured it, to pursue personal ventures. He had much to consider.

"Where are you fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat?" T'Yelas asked as she approached him from the other side of the street.

He had been aware of her advance, of course, but didn't respond until she spoke to him. Stepping away from the wall, he met her in the middle of the street. She seemed comfortable with the MAGGIe supporting her, but he lent her his arm anyway. "Forgive me, madam. I was within my mind."

"A busy place, your mind."

"More often than not, yes."

"Have you left space in there for our child - or for me?"

"You are persistent on that subject, T'sai T'Yelas," he remarked. (3)

"As I should be," she said, allowing him to escort her to the Cathedral's front doors. "Who will act to secure a future for my infant if not I?"

"I admire your maternal diligence, but... You are aware that I am sa-ka-ashausu, are you not?"

"Everyone is aware of that, fa'Kahr-Lan Sa'aat. You have made your preferences known since you were old enough to - " she leaned forward and whispered, "- khrasau." (4) Sa'aat tilted his head, the only expression of his surprise, as T'Yelas continued in a more normal tone, "It is a condition irrelevant to our present circumstances. You may never again meet me in the arena, or have any desire for me whatsoever; nonetheless, your seed fed my child, and here it grows." She patted her belly. "I would be more at ease knowing that, in your mental musings, you considered us on occasion."

"You were among the subjects I was considering just now, madam."

"That is comforting to hear. Have you come to any conclusions about us?"

"Not entirely, no."

"Time passes, Sa'aat. We cannot wait upon your deliberations forever. However, perhaps I can offer you a greater inducement to stay on New Vulcan." Sa'aat waited for her to continue. "The Triumvirate has been discussing you in great measure, and we all agree you have skills and influence we dare not fail to retain at this point in the development of our new republic; therefore, we are willing to offer you another, hopefully more enticing, commission."

"You have already proffered the rank of Solai-Lan," Sa'aat reminded her.

"Yes, but I believe you will find our next offer far more persuasive."

* * *

Nyota found Spock exactly where she thought she'd find him before their duty shift started: in the Medical Bay, looking in on Baby S.

She'd spent the night apart from him, not wanting to burden him with her doubts, dolor, and raw emotions about the newborn. She had also needed time to clarify what she was able to contend with, and what she wanted and needed from their relationship. From the moment Spock had been forcibly bred under the Ek'tevan Prerogative, she'd known there would be children in their future – Spock's children, not hers - and she had convinced herself she could handle the situation and stand by Spock, no matter what. However, Baby S had made it all so real. The shock had literally knocked her legs from under her for a while; and Nyota had stayed up most of the night thinking about the ramifications of that reality. She had concluded she could, in time, accept and learn to love Baby S. His father, after all, was the man she was dedicated to spending the rest of her life with, and his mother, T'Cloo, was forever out of the picture. Despite whatever jealousies the plak-tau women induced in her, Spock had made his decision about how she fit into his life by proposing to bond with her. He was committed to their relationship and, for now, that was sufficient for her.

"Ooooo. No sleep, huh?" Christine asked her as she entered the Bay.

"You can tell? Ugh, I must look like Wistan gagh warmed over." (5)

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, honey. Without makeup, stinking dirty, and dressed in your grandfather's ratty boxers, you'd still be lovelier than most of the other women on this ship... That's why we all hate you so much." Christine grinned. Nyota chuckled and shook her head, as the nurse gave her a hug, saying, "How are you holding up, kiddo?"

"Okay, I guess." Nyota looked toward the now uncovered viewing pane on the side of the ICU where Baby S was recuperating. Spock stood beside the isolette, his palm on the top of it. "How's Spock doing?"

"About the same as you... feeling like gagh warmed over but still determined to move forward."

Nyota walked to the ICU window to get a better view. "How long has he been in there?"

"Since about oh-one-hundred," Christine joined her. "The baby is doing a little better this morning; made it through the night without any drama. It's still going to be touch-and-go for him for a few days, but he's a scrappy little thing...like his dad: a bit stubborn and very tenacious."

"Can I go in?"

"Sure."

As soon as she entered, Spock looked up at her. He looked uncharacteristically exhausted, with grayish-green circles rimming his eyes. Nyota felt a pang of concern; his health had seemingly taken a small step backward, and as t emporary as this minor setback might be, it was still worrisome. "Morning -" she said.

Spock gave her a slow, silent nod, in part welcoming her into the room and acknowledging her presence, and in part letting her know that he understood how difficult the presence of the child was for her, and that he would accept whatever response she had to the matter. "Ha'tha ti'lu, k'diwa," he replied in a whispery voice. (6)

She gestured toward the isolette. "How was his night?"

Spock, making no mention of the fact she had referred to the child as "him," rather than "it," answered, "I suspect he slept more soundly than either of us."

"Lucky kid..."

Spock nodded again but said nothing, waiting for her to make the advances and take the lead in their interactions for the moment. Nyota knew he had made his decisions; now it was time for her to make hers without his influence. She had been distraught the evening before, and he obviously wasn't going to compound her difficulties by pushing her for reassurances.

After a few awkward seconds, during which neither of them wanted to impose on the other, Nyota took the initiative and walked across the room to him. "I feel like I should apologize for my behavior yesterday, but... I was being honest."

"I know. Your response was not unjustified."

"I thought about the baby all night..."

"And have you come to a conclusion?"

"I think so." She gave him a soft smile and walked over to him. She wrapped his arm around her, and rested her head against his shoulder, telling him without words she wanted to remain connected to him, a part of his life. He let his fingers slip through her hair and lightly caress the base of her skull, tentatively feeling for her mind, then, with a deep but silent sigh of relief, he kissed her forehead and whispered, "Nemaiyo." _(Thank you.)_

With joy, contentment, fatigue, and concern swimming through her brain, her eyes filled with the unshed tears Spock was unable to exhibit himself. Hugging him, Nyota looked into the isolette at the infant bathed in the blue light of the phototherapy generator, seeing, for the first time, the shock of sleek, black hair on his tiny head, and thin upswept eyebrows peeking from under the pads covering his eyes. Yesterday, all she had seen was his ears... today she could see all of him. He was like Spock in miniature, and Nyotas tired heart went out to him. "You're going to acknowledge him and keep him, aren't you?"

"Yes," he admitted. "It is the best and most moral course of action. I cannot desert him. He has no one else. However, if the burden is too great for you, I -"

Nyota lifted her fingers in the ozh'esta, and placed them lightly against his lips. "I told you before: do whatever you think is necessary and I will support you. Even though I went a little bonkers yesterday about this, and even though I'm a little brain-dead this morning, I'm sticking to that commitment. I would never ask you to estrange yourself from your child, and I agree we can't just desert him. So, first things first: what are we going to call him?"

Spock shifted his weight, his posture becoming more relaxed. He looked at the infant and said, "I have been considering several different names. One keeps pushing to the fore of my mind; however, I am not certain we should select it."

"Why not?"

"Although it follows the precepts of Vulcan nomenclature, it is not strictly a Vulcan name."

"Well, that's okay. He's not _strictly a Vulcan_, anyway, is he? What is it?"

"It actually stems from a Human literary tale."

"It certainly can't be worse than _'Baby S,'_ Spock. Tell me what it is."

Spock paused, and then said, "Swahn."

Nyota frowned a bit, unsure she had heard him correctly. "Spell it -"

"S-w-a-h-n."

"Swahn?"

"You do not like it."

"Actually I do, it's just... Swahn? What Human literary tale does it come from?"

"The story of the bird, abandoned as an egg by its mother in the nest of another, who believes itself to be homely, and suffers abuse from its barnyard neighbors, until the day it realizes it has matured into a graceful and beautiful creature."

"_The Ugly Duckling_." (7)

"Yes. It seems somehow apropos. Still, I am not certain..."

Despite her fatigue, Nyota giggled a little, both amazed and delighted. _Swahn_: the name had such metaphoric and sentimental connotations to it. She always knew that within Spock there was a poet lurking inside of the scientist, and she was actually quite pleased to see this lyrical side of him come out in response to his child. And the baby did look something like a little bird, scrawny and featherless...

Rubbing his back with one hand, she assured Spock, "S'chn T'gai Swahn, sa-fu t'Spahk, of the noble clan of Telak-sen-deen.(8) Mmmmmm. It's a great name. I like it." She chuckled. "It won't fit on a birth announcement very easily, though..."

* * *

"Fik-Zhel-Lan," Stenn said from his seat in the Cathedral antechamber. (9)

Sa'aat blinked, astonished by the proposal. He looked toward the twins for confirmation.

T'Yelas nodded. "Yes. Such a commission would outstrip the authority of even a Solai-Lan, with power that would allow you to oversee not only the army, but the police, the new Vulcan Guard, and the fleets," she explained from her chair.

No such position had ever existed among the Vulcan people before, not even in their ancient warlord days. Sa'aat looked into her eyes, extending his mind briefly to touch hers in order to verify the truth of the offer, and then said, "That is... extraordinarily generous."

"We have drawn up an official declaration to provide you with the details," Stenn said, and Ste've stepped forward to present a PADD to Sa'aat. He took it without comment, and read its contents carefully. "It is, as always, subject to your approval; and if there are additions, augmentations or deletions you would like to propose, we will consider them," Stenn added.

"Will you be putting this up for a vote before the delegates at the Council Meeting?" Sa'aat asked, not taking his eyes off the PADD.

"We will."

"But the vote will be perfunctory," T'Yelas added. "We have already discussed this matter with the main representatives of each delegation; they unanimously approved the commission."

"With the caveat," Stenn added, "that the position is offered to you, and you alone initially, and it include a short probationary period of one calendar-year, after which the position, and any offices created under it, will become permanent."

Sa'aat glanced up at the older man. "Why to me alone?"

"There is no one else with your skill set, expertise, or experience living on New Vulcan," said T'Yelas, "and we do not want the position to go to anyone with lesser capabilities."

"I see. The fact that I have a connection to the Coh'Lie, and that you have expressed a desire to entreat them for their military secrets, was also a contributing factor, no doubt."

"It played a very minor role," Stenn admitted.

Sa'aat shifted in his seat, his body displaying hints of disapproval and resistance, but he continued to read. "...The office would function as an entity separate from the legislature and ministry of finance, with full autonomy."

"Yes," said Stenn. "In these early years of our development, we believe any overseeing enforcement body will need to be separate from any and all political or financial influences."

"And I would be able to enlist personnel of my own choosing?"

"Yes, and promote from within as you see fit."

Sa'aat took his time reading the proposal, and set the PADD in his lap when he finished. He looked to T'Lale, seated beside her twin. "You are very quiet on this subject, madam."

"There are dangers in establishing such a powerful and sovereign military presence," she said. "We have, after all, seen the implementation of such a body on Romulus..."

"You are in dissention, then."

"No. I voted with my co-counsel."

"But not unreservedly."

"No."

"It is a station that may be abused, yes," T'Yelas interrupted. "But, as you read in the declaration, assuming the probationary period passes without incident, the commission can still be revoked by a majority vote among the population after the first twenty calendar-years."

"Why wait so long?" Sa'aat asked.

"We calculated it would take a minimum of twenty years to establish the office, determine the width and breadth of its influence, allow it to reach optimum performance, and determine its overall long-term effect on the population," Stenn responded.

"The commitment will be lengthy," T'Lale informed him. "So, as you consider the commission, Sa'aat, also consider the trust your people are willing to place in you; and be willing to honor in full force any commitment you decide to make so as not to betray that trust."

"Do you trust me, madam?"

T'Lale averted her eyes to the hands she had folded loosely on the top of her pregnant belly. "You have always presented yourself as an honorable individual."

"Thank you. However, that was not the question. Do _you_ trust me?"

T'Lale looked him in the eyes. "You are purportedly incorruptible. I trust you understand, and are guided by the concepts of duty, fidelity, equity, and probity. I trust you are man of ability. And I trust you with my life and the life of my unborn child."

"So much faith... and yet, you barely know me."

"I know something of your mind, Sa'aat. I know your actions. I know your past. The only thing that remains unknowable is the future... and none of us can see that."

Stenn added, "The Vulcan people are calling upon you for security, aid and protection, Saaat. Will you answer them or will you remain silent?"

* * *

As Kirk and Nyota headed down the corridor toward the Main Transporter Room, Kirk asked, "How's the baby doing?"

"He's hanging in there."

"And how are you doing?"

"Hanging in there..."

"Decided on a name for the kid yet?"

"Spock wants to call him Swahn."

"Swahn? That's kind of a 'girlie' name for a boy isn't it?"

"Oh, I suppose you'd like something more 'manly', like _'Tiberius'_."

"_Tiberius Spock_ - it has a great ring to it!"

"That's not going to happen - Captain."

"So when will you guys be making a formal announcement to the crew; you know, start handing out cigars?"

"Spock wants to wait until after the council Meeting, and... Vulcans don't smoke cigars."

They were met by Dr. McCoy who, fresh from an appendectomy, was still in his medical scrubs. He fell into step beside Kirk and said, "They're calling the baby _Swahn_."

"Yeah, I heard."

"_Leonard_ is far more masculine."

Nyota shook her head. "Don't you have duties to attend to on the planet, Doctor?"

"Yes. Lots. But if you think I'm going to miss this, you're crazy."

"Be nice, you two," she warned the men.

"We're always nice," McCoy said, and the captain stifled a laugh behind a snort.

They entered the transporter room and found Sarek and Spock already inside. The Vulcans stood behind the operator's console where Mr. Scott sat at the controls; Spock in his uniform, Sarek in a dark brown business suit tailored to Vulcan design. They both gave the captain questioning looks, as Scotty announced, "The _Odva_ is coming up on our port side, Captain."

"Very good, Mister Scott." Kirk smiled at the Vulcans. "Thank you, gentlemen, for agreeing to be here. I'd like to make sure this guest is greeted properly."

"Lieutenant Uhura is capable of assisting you in that regard, Captain," Spock reminded him, as she joined him behind the console. She gave Sarek a respectful bob of her head, and he made room for her beside his son.

"Yeah, well... This passenger is kind of... special," Kirk said.

"So you have intimated - several times."

Scotty said, "Standing by for transport," and the captain gave Nyota a conspiratorial wink as he ordered, "Energize."

The foremost node on the transporter pad lit up with swirling white streaks of energy, and when they dissipated, the main passenger of the _Odva_ appeared in their place. His prematurely graying hair hung askew to his shoulders, and a xylophone grin of white teeth sparkled from under his beard. He was dressed in old-fashion Vulcan traveling robes that were clean but well worn. Spock grasped Nyota's hand, unconsciously taking a step back as the man stepped down to shake Captain Kirk's hand. "Do you see him?" He whispered to her.

"Yes, Spock," she whispered back. "He's not a hallucination this time."

"Little Brother!" Sybok shouted in a happy, booming voice, stretching his arms wide for an embrace. "Hiding from me, are you?"

"No," Spock said, too stunned to move before Sybok strode up, and enveloped him in a bear hug that lasted several seconds.

McCoy chuckled, and beside him, Kirk grinned from ear-to-ear. Obviously, they had never seen such an emotionally demonstrative Vulcan before, nor had they ever seen anyone dare to touch Spock in such a fashion - or seen their First Officer quite so taken aback. "Now, that was worth the price of admission," McCoy jibed.

After giving Spock an additional affectionate squeeze and a resounding pat on the back, Sybok turned his attention to Sarek, who was standing by, quiet and self-contained. Sybok, retaining a glint of humor and hope in his eyes, offered Sarek a reverential bow of his head. "Sa-mekh," he said simply. _(Father.)_

"Sa-fu t'nash-veh," Sarek returned in kind. _(My son.)_ Spock slipped his fingers against Nyota's again, and she felt a sensation of sudden, bright jubilance. She squeezed his fingertips and flashed him a covert smile. She knew it had been over two decades since Sarek had last referred to Sybok thus, and she watched Sybok's eyes flood with grateful tears. Sarek, straight-faced and authoritative, ignored the emotionalism and continued, "You will be standing in representation of the V'tosh ka'tur at the Council Meeting, I take it."

"Yes, Father."

"You have a full delegation?"

"Three shy of the thirteen, but I am expecting those seats to be filled once the Council ratifies the statute that will vacate their banishment."

"I see. And you have already submitted your Sect's charter for inclusion?"

Spock frowned slightly. Their father already knew the V'tosh ka'tur charter had been submitted to the Triumvirate, T'Lale had said as much in their last meeting. Sarek was making small talk, which was very unlike him.

"Yes," Sybok affirmed. "I can have a copy forwarded to you, if you like, Father."

"That will not be necessary. I am certain we will have more than sufficient time to debate its more salient points over the next several days. Will you be staying aboard the _Enterprise_ until the Council Meeting?"

Sybok glanced at Captain Kirk, and the captain responded, "Certainly! I wouldn't have it any other way, Ambassador."

"Apparently, I am!" Sybok said with a pleased grin. "Perhaps we can have dinner together this evening, Father."

"That would be... acceptable," Sarek said. "Now, if you will excuse me. I have other obligations which require my attention." He took his leave, exiting the room without further comment or demonstration.

Once the door had closed behind him, Sybok turned to the captain with a self-deprecating smile and said, "As formidable as ever. Even at my age, he can still make me tremble. Did you notice? My hands were shaking like a kan-lap. (10) But that went much better than I thought it would."

"Indeed," said Spock. Then, as Sybok realized Spock was holding Nyota's hand, Spock increased his grip – a wordless display of confident determination that wasn't lost on Nyota or his half-sibling.

Sybok smiled, leaned in toward Nyota and said softly, "You know, he wouldn't even let his own mother hold his hand like that in front of other people."

"That was a different place and time," said Spock.

"And in the move did you forget your manners, Little Brother? Introduce us."

Spock released Nyota's hand and presented her to his half-brother. "Sybok, son of Sarek, formerly of Vulcan, this is Lieutenant Nyota Uhura of Earth, daughter of Alhamisi, Communications Officer and Xenolinguist for the _USS Enterprise_." (11)

"He's always so formal about everything," Sybok said, extending his hand. Nyota shook it as Sybok continued, "You will have to join us for dinner. I have no doubt there is a remarkable story behind you two, and I want you to tell me all about it."

"Oh, I don't know," Nyota hedged, looking up at Spock.

McCoy grinned. "I'd pay money to sit in on that conversation."

"You know, Sybok, these two have never actually told us how they first fell in love," said Kirk.

"Probably because the details aren't any of your business," Nyota reminded him, and then added an obligatory, "- Captain."

"Oh, I think it's more because you were violating a few regulations at the time," Kirk countered with a mischievous smirk. Spock's eyebrows arched at the accusation, and Sybok's whole face lit up with surprise and enthusiasm. Kirk grinned. "Hey. Why don't we have a real dinner, eighteen-thirty hours this evening, in the Captain's Mess? We can celebrate the upcoming Council Meeting and the medical teams' joint efforts on the planet… you know, make a real night of it. I'll make sure the invitation gets extended to Sarek, too."

"I'm in!" said McCoy.

"Delightful!" said Sybok.

Spock glanced at Nyota. Parties had never been his forte, but he could come up with no logical reason or valid excuse to avoid the dinner, so he acquiesced with a stiff, "Very well."

* * *

"It is exceedingly decorative," said Sa'aat, as T'Yelas fastened the ribbon-adorned lan-terseht to the breast of his jacket. (12)

She flattened the piece with her fingertips, saying, "You are Vulcan's first Fik-Zhel-Lan. Some sort of signifying decoration is expected."

She turned Sa'aat around so he could see himself in the mirrored wall of his new office. His new uniform, a modern, tailored, and form fitting adaptation of previous Vulcan military uniforms, was made primarily of dark brown faux-leather. Heavy ribbing, radiating from his solar plexus, over his shoulders to his back, accented the waist-length, high-collared jacket; and the tooled crest of Vulcan's military rested between his shoulders. He wore a black broad cloth shirt underneath, and highly polished brown boots finished the look. A tiny, triangular-shaped pip with silvery rings decorating the jacket's collar matched the ribbon and larger ornamentation T'Yelas had secured to his chest. (13)

T'Yelas tugged the jacket's hem to even out its lines, before smoothing Sa'aat's sleek, black braid, woven with the white-gold ribbon filaments denoting his skill at k'a'sum'i, down his back like a second spine. "Quite impressive," she said with a note of feminine approval.

Sa'aat looked at her reflection and said quietly, "Although I understand and accept we must develop a certain level of cooperation since I am the biological father of your child, you must not allow yourself to become emotionally attached to me, madam."

"I am not attached. I am simply... appreciative."

Turning, he took her hands and established a light meld. Her mind was an open book, and he found what he expected to read there. Despite her protests, she was very much in love with him. Her feelings filtered into his brain like smoke, thick and laden with feminine mystery. He released her hands and said in a detached, professional tone, "I will need to review the security details before the Council Meeting." There was the shadow of a pout along T'Yelas' lips as she said, "Of course."

* * *

Spock returned to the Medical Bay during his afternoon break to check in on Swahn and found Dr. Surrey and Sybok standing outside the ICU window, looking in on the baby.

Sybok had been to the ship's barber in the interim; his now neatly trimmed hair was pulled back into a short ponytail at the base of his skull, and he sported a well-shaped beard. He had also changed clothes, replacing his traveling gear with a broadcloth shirt, fitted trousers, and soft boots. He looked much as Spock remembered him from the times they met in the mountains outside the family estate on Vulcan. When Spock approached the ICU window, Sybok turned to smile at him, slipping an arm around his shoulders. Spock stiffened at his half-brother's blatant display of familiarity, but did nothing to dissuade him.

His eyes fell on the doctor, and Surrey explained, "I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. The baby, I mean. Swahn looks a lot better than I thought he would, given what he's been through. And I'm glad to see you've marked him as yours by naming him."

Spock nodded. "Dr. McCoy states that his condition is guarded, and will probably remain so for several more days. He may also have on-going physical difficulties associated with his premature birth, but Swahn is remarkably resilient."

"Not unlike his father," Sybok said, giving Spock a brotherly squeeze before releasing him. Looking through the glass at the baby, he cooed, "Ahhhh! A son, Spock." Happiness and pride infused his words and features. "How grown up you are, Little Brother!"

Spock tilted his head and remarked, "Providing sperm toward the ontogenesis of a fetus is hardly evidence of maturity, Sybok."

"Oh, you know what I mean," Sybok said, giving Spock a light remonstrative shove on the shoulder. "From what I hear, you've made a declaration of proposal to your lovely Lieutenant -"

"Who told you that?"

"I have my ways," Sybok pointed to his head.

"You invade the minds of oth- ?"

"No, no invasions, no, Spock. But Humans do tend to broadcast their thoughts; and any finely tuned receiver can pick up on all sorts of things..."

"I see." Spock knew that even as a youngster Sybok had displayed a mental capacity and dexterity rivaling even the most seasoned Rigolau (14) or Kolinahru, but it still irked him that his half-brother would trespass on Humans' thoughts and emotions - broadcast or not - without their permission.

"As I was saying, you have a fiancée, as the Humans refer to it - and kudos on your choice, by the way; you've acknowledged and named this child; and you may have others on the way! You're far ahead of me in the paternal arena, I can tell you."

"You don't have a mate or any children, Sybok?" Dr. Surrey asked.

"No. Oh, I've had several promising encounters, and I've suffered through my share of Pon Farr, but nothing's stuck."

"You were bonded to T'Parill as a child," Spock reminded him. (15)

"Oh, yes," Sybok nodded. He looked at Dr. Surrey, "You can imagine how that went after I was banished for being so _madon-zherka-bosh,_ (16)" he made a scrambling gesture at the side of his head and rolled his eyes in a pantomime of a lunatic. "Not well, I can tell you. Never before in the history of our world has an arranged marriage been so quickly dissolved."

"You exaggerate," said Spock.

"On my life, I don't," Sybok countered. He looked at Surrey again. "A shavokh with warp capabilities couldn't have moved more quickly." (17)

Surrey chuckled, and Spock said, "Do not encourage him, Doctor Surrey."

"My little brother disapproves of me," Sybok said.

"Inaccurate. I do believe your penchant for exaggeration should be discouraged, but I have often stood in defense of you, Sybok."

"That's true," Sybok nodded. "Spock always believed I should be allowed to follow my own path. On one occasion, even though I was the elder, he stood against our father on my behalf and demanded I be allowed to express myself as I pleased."

"Oh? And how did that go?" Surrey asked.

"One does not stand against Sarek of Vulcan without consequences," Spock replied.

"Which was part of the reason Spock pleaded to go with me when I was banished."

"Inaccurate," Spock said again. "I asked to go with you because I feared for you, and did not want you to face a solitary banishment."

"He worries about me…that's true, too. It's part of who he is. He's always felt it his responsibility to defend and protect the disenfranchised and desolate, even though he himself was sorely persecuted."

"I've noticed that," Surrey said.

"You do much the same," Spock reminded his half-brother, deflecting the conversation away from himself.

"Perhaps. But not with the same vigor or depth of heart as you do, Little Brother."

"You did thrash S'hoot on my behalf."

"Ooooh, yes," Sybok hissed. "S'hoot: categorically, the worst child ever to have spawned from a Vulcan lok."

"Exaggeration -" Spock warned.

"Not at all. That child was a monster," Sybok explained to Surrey. "I had been sent to fetch Spock from school on one occasion, and found him halfway home, in the park by the columbarium, toe-to-toe with the ghastly S'hoot. The Creature, as we called him, was badgering Spock with the most vile language, disparaging his mother, calling him names like _rish-ha-vel_ and _mesh t'whl'q'n._(18) The vitriol from that boy's mouth was astonishing. And Spock just stood there, fists clenched, cringing against every ugly syllable, but saying nothing; in complete control of himself." He glanced at Spock, "Father would have been proud, if he had seen you." Spock shrugged, and Sybok continued, "Finally, I refused to listen to any more, so I rushed The Creature and hurled him over the wall into the cemetery. Then I leapt onto the wall, stared down upon him with the rage of Khosaar (19) himself, and warned him if he ever breathed a word about what had happened, I'd use my mind to drive him as mad as I was."

"That terrified him," Spock said without expression.

"Yes, it did!" Sybok chuckled. "He never pestered Spock again."

"Sounds like you two were quite the pair," said Dr. Surrey.

"Vulcan had never seen the like. And here we are, the sons of Sarek, reunited over a new world with a new future ahead of us. Who would have imagined it?"

Spock looked through the window at Swahn and muttered, "Not I, sa-kai." (20)

* * *

"So are you two going to tell me what the hubbub was about?" Dr. Deerfoot, sitting in her office aboard the _Martin James_, asked as she looked between the split view of Drs. McCoy and M'Benga on her com-link monitor screen.

"Hubbub?" McCoy feigned ignorance.

"Our ships are in orbit together, we have teams working side-by-side on the planet, our crews talk to one another. You really didn't think you could keep the emergency transport of a patient from the surface quiet, did you?"

M'Benga remained taciturn, but McCoy gave Deerfoot a crafty smile and said, "On the record: I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Fine," Deerfoot said, leaning back in her chair, resigned. "Let's talk about the Vulcans then."

"My group has overseen the intake of approximately five-hundred women, so far, and they're all presenting, as expected, similar symptoms," Dr. M'Benga said. "I have no doubt syncolchicine is responsible. We're also encountering other possible complications: fragile blood vessels in the fetuses and anemia in the mothers."

"My group is seeing that, too. Six-hundred-and-two, all with mirroring symptoms. How about you, Leonard?"

"Same here. Five-hundred-and-twenty-seven. And I don't think these women will carry their babies to term despite the MAGGIes or old-fashioned coddling we give them. It's like asking a spider web to hold a brick; their bodies just can't take the strain. I'd maybe give them another month - and that's a huge maybe - before we have to start taking these kids out of them."

* * *

Spock's meeting with Dr. Surrey later that afternoon had revolved around family.

"In the Vulcan tradition," Spock explained to the doctor from beside the shelf filled with Vulcan figures, "children are regarded as an offshoot or component of their parents' identities which, upon their birth, made the parent feel complete. My father attempted to describe this to me once, but I did not understand it, having never experienced the phenomenon before. I was initially unsure how I might feel or react to the children of the edict, and I was resistant to the notion of becoming a part of Swahn."

"But you've changed your mind - "

"Yes. And it is most curious. Upon seeing Swahn and spending time with him, I actually feel... a genuine physical reaction; how Swahn 'fits' into my genetic structure, psyche and katra. He is like a puzzle piece I had not before noticed was missing from me. Removing him from me now seems as illogical as removing one of my limbs. I could function, if her were gone, but I would be forever incomplete without him."

He straightened some of the figures on the shelves, unconsciously now forming them into little family groups, rather than keeping them in a straight parade line. "Of course," he said, "a formal, legal pronouncement of Swahn's custody will not be recognized by the State until paternity had been proven to whatever committee or ministry on New Vulcan is going to be delegated to oversee such issues, and there might yet be resistance from T'Cloo's clan to my retaining custody of him, but I feel I will prevail, in any eventuality."

The actualization of that whole process, Spock knew, was one of the outcomes expected from tomorrow's Council Meeting. The meeting would actually last several days, or even weeks, as the Sect's petitions were reviewed, discussed and ratified, the arms of the new government were established, statutes and processes were finalized and enacted, and the agencies overseeing implementation were assigned. More likely than not, there would be no final determination of Swahn's status for months. Spock was willing to oversee the child's care in the interim, and the fact that Nyota was willing to accommodate him in this regard was gratifying.

Considering that before the Genocide modern Vulcans seldom had more than one child, Spock wondered if he would feel a similar connection with his other children - or if Swahn was somehow special because he was the first born, and somehow occupied a unique place in Spock's mind and body the other children would never be able to inhabit. Humans with large families often claimed to love each of their children equally, and Spock wondered if he – as part Human – would be endowed with the same capability.

"All parents wonder at one time or another if they're good enough, Mister Spock, if they're proficient enough, if there's enough love to go around so no one feels neglected," Dr. Surrey said. "Even Vulcans, who loathe expressing emotions, acknowledge the familial bond is one of the strongest in your society. I don't think you have to worry about being able to feel connected to your offspring. I suspect it will all come naturally to you."

Spock mulled this over for a few moments, still doubting himself to some degree because paternity was still very new to him. However, Dr. Surrey's words were encouraging. "How will I know if I am succeeding as a parent?"

Surrey chuckled, "Well, for one thing, the other parents will tell you. If your kid's a hellion, believe me, the other kids' parents will be the first ones to let you know that. You'll also see your success mirrored in Swahn, in his choices and behaviors as he develops. But don't get too caught up in the notion of being the 'perfect parent'. There is no such thing. You're going to make mistakes; you're going to have regrets, but if you work it right the successes and moments of incredible elation and gratitude will far exceed those. In some sense, I actually envy the long-term bond you're going to have with Swahn. As a Vulcan, you'll be able to link with him; share with him in a way no Human father could ever conceive of. It should be quite incredible."

Spock nodded, but his heart wasn't in it. He pursed his lips, and then asked, "Considering that link between father and son, do you believe I may... inadvertently, of course, project onto Swahn those difficulties I myself had a child?"

"You mean about feeling different? Being a child of two distinctly different cultures?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not exactly sure how the father-son bond works in Vulcans, but I believe that if you treat Swahn as an individual, with respect and affection, he'll learn from your own experiences rather than be unduly influenced by them. If you're honest with yourself and with him, you can't help but project everything you are, Mister Spock. You're you, after all, with all your assets and all your baggage. Initially, kids don't really care about whatever icky stuff their folks might have been through. All they want is for you to be there for them, love them, and give the structure and guidance. If you have angst about your own childhood, and you feel it's appropriate to explain some of that to Swahn as he gets older, go ahead. And don't ignore any questions he might have about you. You're going to be his role model; he needs to have a clear picture of who you are, what you think, and what your values are."

"Swahn may not have all the same difficulties I did, in that he is three-quarter Vulcan and I am only half. The Human element may not be so pronounced in him, but still... He is a hybrid, and his conception was somewhat... unnatural. There will be talk."

"You can't control what other people say, Mister Spock, you can only control how you choose to react to what they say... but Swahn will be looking to you as his guide in how to react."

"And how shall I help him integrate with other children; I want him to have friends, playmates."

"Socialization at an early age is usually a great thing... but be careful not to try to force the issue. If Swahn turns out to be naturally gregarious, he'll seek out and draw companions to him. If he's substantially shy or introverted, playdates and such may need to be introduced... but companionship can't be compulsory; you can't make kids be friends."

"And will the children feel an attachment to one another, I wonder, coming from such disparate family lines?" he asked.

"You obviously feel a strong bond with Sybok, even though he's a half-sibling… like your plak-tau children will be to one another. This is something you should discuss with the children's mothers: how and if the children will be allowed to interact with one another. I know the women asked to meet with you. Have you set that up yet?"

"No," Spock admitted. "Other duties have taken precedence."

"I see. Well, don't put it off for too long. In matters like this, postponements can result in more anxiety among the parties... and before you tell me Vulcan women don't get anxious, let me say: nonsense, of course they do. They may not show it, but they feel it, especially when they're pregnant."

Spock conceded the point without debate. Instead, he asked, "If I do meet with them, would it be possible for you to be present?"

"Would it help you if I were there?"

"I believe so, yes. This phenomenon is new to all of us. Having a disinterested party, who can offer insight from the outside, may prove useful."

"Okay. You set up the meeting, and I'll be there," Surrey promised. "In the interim, perhaps it would be helpful to construct a detailed genogram (21) of your new extended family. Going through that process and visualizing the connections may help to exemplify and clarify for you how everything fits together. It will also give you a visual reference to refer to during your discussions with the plak-tau women if you need one."

"I would also like to include Lieutenant Uhura in the process, if that is acceptable, Doctor."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Mister Spock."

* * *

When Spock, still in his uniform, stopped at Nyota's quarters to escort her to the dinner in the Captain's Mess, he touched briefly on the subject of genograms, and Nyota nodded in immediate approval. "I think that's a great idea." Standing in front of the wall displaying the Crickian panels, dressed in a shift and high heels, she turned her back to him so he could fasten the clasp on her necklace. It was a heavy piece of East African design made of butterscotch and cherry shanga-beads that matched the colors of her dress. As Spock's fingertips deftly worked the clasp, she asked, "Will we be including my family in the diagrams?"

"Naturally. They would be incomplete without that information," Spock said, smoothing her hair down the length of her neck. She could feel his gratitude… calm… and reassurance filtering through her brain like a warm fog through the informal link. He "felt" much like he had before the traumas of the past several months: confident, controlled, engaged, curious, and excited by new possibilities. Nyota faced him and smiled. Including her in the genograms told her how connected to her he felt; and, if they were going to be displayed to the plak-tau women, they would also make a non-verbal pronouncement of Nyota's place in his life. She sighed, contented. The gray dread was gone from his face, and his dark eyes shone for her. Like little Swahn, Spock was a very resilient individual.

When they arrived at the Captain's Mess, McCoy and Kirk were there, waiting for them. Both men were dressed in casual attire: McCoy in a pair of light tan pants and a plaid long-sleeved shirt, and Kirk in dark jeans and a pullover that showed off his torso. They were surprised to find Dr. M'Benga and Dr. Deerfoot there, as well as Ambassador Marissa McCormick, from the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs, the Denobulan Captain Freeda, the Ionian Captain C'Gene, and Captains William Anderson, Hugo Bryan and Charlotte Devere from the _Martin James_, the _Merton_, and the _Laurant Despins_ respectively. Engineer Scott, Lieutenant Sulu, Ensign Chekhov, and Nurse Chapel were also there. Like Kirk and McCoy, they were dressed casually, standing along the outskirts of the main dinner table, which had been laid out with fine china and full place-settings, sipping drinks or sparkling jade water, chatting, while uniformed yeomen added last-minute touches to the table and kept everyone's glasses full.

Nyota slipped a soothing hand up against Spock's back, and said softly, "Once more into the breach... stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood..." (22)

* * *

(1) **Ra-de'kutha**: according to the VLD this is a form of mental weapon, a "modern psionic technology used to protect buildings/temples from attack".

(2) **Than-tha and mok farr:** these are rites/rituals participated in by Vulcans at different stages in their lives. The **than-tha** is a child's (age 7) first mind-meld, and the **mok farr** is a ritual in which a Vulcan links with the mind of an animal so he/she can experience a raw, basic, instinctive state; according to the VLD.

(3) **T'sai**: the Vulcan word for "Lady", an honorific title.

(4) **Khrasau**: the Vulcan word for "ejaculate"

(5) **Wistan gagh:** Gagh is a Klingon delicacy made of unprocessed serpent worms; Wistan gagh is a form of gagh canned in the blood of a Klingon targ (a boar-like animal with spikes on it back).

(6) **Ha'tha ti'lu, k'diwa**: translated from the Vulcan this means, _"Good morning, beloved."_

(7) **The Ugly Duckling:** a story by Danish poet/author Han Christian Andersen, which was first published in November of 1843. In the story, the little bird, who looks so different from his duckling step-siblings is criticized and ridiculed, until it matures and everyone realizes that it wasn't a duck after all: it was a swan. According to Wikipedia_, "The tale has been adapted to various media including opera, musical, and animated film. The tale is completely Andersen's invention and owes no debt to fairy or folk lore."_

(8)** S'chn T'gai Swahn, sa-fu t'Spahk**, of the noble clan of **Telak-sen-deen: **I thank my beta FarStrider for locating the reference to "S'chn T'gai" as Spock's family name. (Star Trek TOS novel _"Ishmael"_, by Barbara Hambly, 1985). **Sa-fu t'Spock** translates from the Vulcan as "son of Spock", and the clan name, Telak-sen-deen, is that listed by Fontana in her Star Trek novel _"Vulcan's Glory"_ (pg 65).

(9) **Fik-Zhel-Lan**: literally translated from the Vulcan this means "Top Commander", or "Commander-in-Chief".

(10) **Kan-lap**: the Vulcan word for "sapling", a young tree.

(11) **Alhamisi**: According to the Memory Beta site, this is Nyota's father's name. _"The daughter of Alhamisi and M'Umbha Mahia Uhura, she was born in Kitua Province, Kenya. Her family's name is derived from the Swahili word __Uhuru__, which translates to "freedom", and her given name means "star"." _

(12) **Lan-terseht:** the Vulcan word for "rank insignia", the badge, ribbon or pip that denotes rank on a military uniform.

(13) **Uniform: **I took my ideas for Sa'aat's new uniform from the catalog of previous Vulcan uniforms displayed on the Memory Alpha site. The materials, v-shaped accents, and high collar are all reminiscent of previous version of Vulcan military uniforms. I augmented the style by making the jacket waist-length, instead of hip-length, and adding a badge and ribbon ornamentation to it. The badge itself is a mix of old Vulcan military insignias and the "rings" used in the constructions of Vulcan starships. ((/wiki/Vulcan_uniform)) **Author's Note:** I wanted a uniform that would make Sa'aat more "hip", and that would both accent the wedge-shape of his torso (making his shoulder look broader) while also showing off his butt. Hey, it's MY story; I can add a little eye-candy for myself in there if I want to... If I could dress up Spock like this, I would! Hah!

(14) **Rigolau:** the Vulcan word for "empath".

(15) **T'Parill:** Her existence is NOT canon; I made her up.

(16) **Madon-zherka-bosh**: the Vulcan phrase for "overly emotional"

(17) **Shavokh**: a large bird of prey indigenous to the planet Vulcan. According to the Starbase 188 wiki, _"The __**shavokh**__ is a graceful hunting bird with gold and brown feathers and a massive 2.5 meter wingspan and a powerful musculature that allows it to propel itself along the mild wind currents of Vulcan's atmosphere. Although the bird possesses two pairs of sharp golden talons and is carnivorous, its prey consists of small rodents and reptiles, and it is no threat to the humanoid inhabitants of Vulcan. Indeed, desert dwellers hold that it is good luck to encounter a __shavokh__ when traveling through unfamiliar lands, for where it descends to ground, one will find ground water or a soak not too deeply buried nearby." _

(18) **Rish-ha-vel** and **mesh t'whl'q'n**: disparaging names which translated from the Vulcan mean _"cross-breed"_ and _"Vulcan's shame"_.

(19) **Khosaar**: the Vulcan god of war

(20) **Sa-kai:** the Vulcan word for "brother".

(21) **Genogram**: a genogram is a series of various symbols and graphs which help to visually define a person's relationships. More than typical "genealogy" or "family tree", it can touch on medical history, habitation, patterns in heredity, psychology, births/deaths, pets,etc. According to Wikipedia: _"Genograms were first developed and popularized in clinical settings by Monica McGoldrick and Randy Gerson through the publication of a book titled __Genograms: Assessment and Intervention__ in 1985. Genograms are now used by various groups of people in a variety of fields such as genealogy, medicine, psychiatry, psychology, social work, genetic research, education, and many more. Some practitioners in personal and family therapy use genograms for personal records and/ or to explain family dynamics to the client."_

(22) **Author's Note:** Nyota is quoting here from the "Cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George!" speech from Act 3 of Shakespeare's _"Henry V"_ (1598). It reads in part: _"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood..."_


	25. Chapter 25

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the beta-ed version of this chapter. I love the way my beta FarStrider is able to trim the fat off my words and yet leave all the meat of them behind. Fantastic work; thank you!

* * *

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

Yeoman Janice Rand, her blonde hair piled in a sort of basket weave style on top of her head, met Nyota and Spock at the door with a grin and a silver tray of drinks. Spock declined the offer with a small shake of his head, and stood beside Nyota with his hands behind his back. He had, upon entering, counted the number of vacant chairs around the table; there were thirty-one place-settings: a spot for Kirk at the head of the table, and fifteen settings along the sides.

"I thought this was going to be a more private dinner, Janice," Nyota whispered as she selected a glass of white wine.

"I think it started out that way, and then this one invited that one, and well... things just kind of got out of hand from there."

"Typical," Nyota said, taking a sip. "When we were at the Academy, the captain was famous for hosting parties in his room that quickly expanded to hallways, stairwells, several other dorms, and eventually the lawns and parking lots around campus. He doesn't seem able to say no to a party... or a partier."

Currently he was entertaining Captain Freeda with a very animated story of his encounter with the Xinxian holo-lure on Jagusch-McGillis, and he seemed overtly pleased when Freeda gave him a broad-faced Denobulan grin in response.

Spock, moving quietly in Nyota's wake, wasn't surprised when several eyes followed their progress through the room., appraising them. He knew their relationship had been the gossip of Starfleet since the _Narada_ incident, but this would be the first time most of the guests had seen them as a couple in a social setting. Rumors about Swahn were also undoubtedly circulating among the crew. The stares made him bristle a bit, anticipating reproval, but externally, he kept his features serene.

"What a lovely pair you are," Freeda remarked as they drew near.

"Captain Freeda, let me introduce my First Officer, Commander Spock, and my head Communications Officer, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura," Kirk said.

Freeda's eyes, framed by the facial ridge typical of her species, were presently a soft blue. Spock knew the color was a reflection of her current emotional state, and it would shift dramatically as her hormone or adrenalin levels changed. Nonetheless, the placid blue, along with her kind words, helped assuage some of the prickliness within him, and he was grateful. She extended her hand to him, in the Human greeting, and he reached past Nyota to shake it lightly, reading gentle kindness and acceptance through the touch... along with a slight hint of desire.

Dr. Surrey had warned him that after what he had endured on New Vulcan his unconscious reactions to different stimuli might surprise him. He was often startled by the anger, disgust, or alarm that sometimes arose in response to the most innocuous circumstances, like a handshake, or a look, or a provocative statement - even if it wasn't directed at him. Upon sensing Captain Freeda's vague attraction to him, a flood of revulsion filled him, causing him to withdraw his hand. He was not as healed as he had imagined, and that admission was difficult for him. Only Nyota noticed the subtle shift in his posture that denoted his discomfort. She leaned her hip toward him slightly, offering her unspoken support, as Kirk asked Captain Freeda, "Denobulans are polygamous, right?"

"We're a society of extended families, yes, Captain. Polygamy and polyandry are the Human labels for it."

"Three husbands, three wives - "

"Sometimes more than three."

"Must get confusing, keeping track of everyone," McCoy suggested from beside the captain.

"Not at all. Humans have extended relationships resulting from families with multiple children, don't they? You remember your relations, don't you, Dr. McCoy?"

"Not always, no," McCoy admitted, "Especially when it comes to my distant cousins or just about anyone on my ex-wife's side."

"_Ex-wife?_ Oh, yes, Humans still practice the rite of dissolution."

"Denobulans don't get divorced?"

"Rarely. We tend to select mates with which we are wholly compatible, and in instances when friction arises, we distance ourselves from one another, and live with our other relations until emotions cool again."

"Ahhhh. _Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire..."_

"Oooo, what an evocative sentiment, Doctor McCoy," Freeda cooed.

McCoy grinned. "Thank you."

"That was actually a quote from the ancient Earth author, François de La Rochefoucauld," Spock informed her. (1)

"Yeah, well, he takes credit for a lot of my best lines -" McCoy told Freeda.

Kirk shook his head, laughing. "Anyway, what I was getting to, before Dr. McCoy took us out to the bonfires, is the Vulcans are now in a situation where, rather than single bonds and single births, they're having to deal with multiple pairings and multiple offspring. Maybe the Denobulans could help them learn to cope with that."

Spock's whole body tightened as he turned slightly to the right, indicating his disapproval and rejection of Kirk's suggestion. Of course, Nyota noticed. "I - think Vulcans will handle the issue in their own way," she said. "However, Captain Freeda, you may be able to help me figure out how to cope with the fact that, in light of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, several females seem to have established a claim to my future bondmate."

"The lady is like a rose," said McCoy. "Soft, fragrant and beautiful, but willing to draw blood if need be." (2)

"Mark Overby." Spock identified the author. "But the doctor rather massacred the verbiage."

Kirk laughed, McCoy scowled, and Freeda asked Nyota, astonished, "Jealous possessiveness? Really?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Nyota slipped her arm in Freeda's, leading her away from the men to talk in private.

"_Future bondmate_ - " McCoy said with a grin.

"Set a date for the nuptials yet, Mister Spock?" Kirk asked.

"No."

"But you will be announcing the marriage, right?"

"When things are more settled on New Vulcan, and there is a methodology in place to publish the banns, yes."

"Well, it's about bloody time you two stopped living in sin," said McCoy.

"Yeah, we were worried you'd end up burning in Hell," Kirk added jokingly.

Spock declined to respond to that, but cocked an eyebrow and remarked, "You two seem to take inordinate pleasure in seeking to discompose me."

Kirk gave Spock a solid pat on the shoulder and chuckled, "You're just now figuring that out?"

At precisely eighteen-thirty, Sarek, with Sybok and Tasmeen behind him, entered the room, followed by the entire Fonn Vulhkansu delegation. Unlike the other guests, the Vulcans were meticulously groomed and fastidiously dressed. _Casual_ apparently wasn't in the Vulcan vocabulary. Even Spock, in his Starfleet uniform, was, by Human standards, somewhat overdressed for the occasion.

Ambassador McCormick had taken it upon herself to give a ship-to-ship primer on Vulcan etiquette and table manners before the dinner. Although her pedantic instructions were accurate and necessary under the circumstances, her delivery must have seemed tailor-made to annoy Captain Kirk, especially considering exactly who his First Officer was. Still, Spock was relieved that the captain tried to curb his natural extroversion and watch his speech in front of his Vulcan guests. In deference to Vulcan vegetarianism, Kirk had made sure no meat dishes were served - with the exception of the synth-meat in the Chinese Chicken Salad - and that alcohol was kept to a minimum. While alcohol had little effect on Vulcans, some crew members tended to over imbibe, especially at parties. Like most traditional Vulcan drinks and dishes, the liqueur _Bar-kas Masu_ was blistering hot and spicy.(3) Fermented from an indigenous Vulcan cactus fruit, it was one of Sarek's favorites, and Kirk had made a special effort to procure a case from a backstreet merchant before the _Enterprise_ left Jagusch-McGillis. He thought it tasted like varnish laced with cinnamon, and had remarked to Engineer Scott, "You can probably use it as a solvent to clean just about anything in engineering. I swear, that stuff can melt the enamel right off your teeth." Scotty, on the other hand, loved it; but when small glasses were served as the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation entered, he declined to take one, still a bit leery of "the beast" since his run in with the Cobalt-Derivian Cocktail.

As each Vulcan stepped into the Captain's Mess, Spock's internal calculator ticked them off: ...twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine. Dr. Surrey, scurrying in a few moments later, uncombed curls and untucked shirttails flying, brought the guest count to thirty; leaving one place setting vacant. Once everyone was seated, conversations sprang up around the table, except in the vicinity of Captain Freeda. Denobulans didn't speak during meals, preferring to focus on their food, which left Dr. McCoy, seated beside her, without a conversation mate. Leaning forward he remarked to Sybok over the din of voices around them, "Spock still hasn't told us how he and Uhura got together."

Smiling over his fork, Sybok said, "Oh, I expect their affections sparked over a discussion of the Vulcan language's lack of articles, or Golic syntax, or something innocuous like that.(4) Spock has always had the uncanny ability to make the mundane fascinating, and that, along with the natural magnetism of the Vulcan male, is often irresistible to females."

"_Irresistible_?" McCoy snorted, "I always thought Spock came off as something of a cold fish; you know, restrained... even prudish."

Sybok deliberately ignored the stern glance Spock gave them from over the curved bowl of his glass of jade-water. "Oh, hardly. I always suspected Spock was the far more ardent among us in the family. You know, s_hi'yon_. All stone and cool-rigidity on the surface, but underneath - a boiling pool of magma straining for release." (5) Spock set his glass down, hard, next to his plate, in a scolding gesture. Across the table, Dr. Surrey noticed the exchange and pricked his ears so he could eavesdrop.

"Is that how you find him, Uhura?" McCoy asked. "Volcanic?"

Before Nyota could respond, Spock reminded them, "There is a child present at the table."

McCoy looked around, and located Tasmeen at the other end. He shook his head at Spock. "Just as I suspected... prudish."

Sybok chuckled to Nyota, "Only you can dissuade the doctor from his entrenched position, Pi'Ko-kai. Tell us how you came to be attracted to my brother."(6)

Spock turned to her directly. "This is not a conversation suitable for the dinner table."

"Oh, come on, Spock," McCoy pressed. "It's not like we haven't all made up scenarios in our heads; and you know we're going to drag it from you eventually... You're getting married soon, for God's sake, man."

"Married?" Ambassador McCormick echoed, and the word drifted around the table, repeated by others. All eyes focused on Spock and Nyota, causing a heated blush to rise in her face.

"The banns have not yet been published, but a preliminary proclamation of koon-ut so'lik has been made," Spock explained.(7)

"Yeah, yeah. All very well and proper," said McCoy. "But we still want the love story."

"It is a private matter."

"A private matter we're going to keep poking at in public until we get a full accounting."

"Doctor - "

"Arguing with them simply prolongs the discussion, Spock," Sarek noted from his seat directly to Captain Kirk's right.

"Thank you, Ambassador," said McCoy.

"I am not condoning the dialog, Doctor McCoy. I am simply pointing out it may come more quickly to a finish if the Lieutenant is allowed her say on the matter. Speak, Daughter, and let that be the end of it."

Given Vulcans' proclivity for privacy when it came to the matter of personal interrelations, Sarek's request was somewhat surprising. However, the power in his voice was compelling, and it was difficult to deny him... which was part of what made him such a capable ambassador. Nyota placed her fingertips on Spock's forearm, where it lay beside his plate, his hand clenched in a light fist, and took a moment to choose her words carefully.

"Spock has numerous qualities which many females of many species find both charming and alluring. I consider myself blessed and honored to be chosen as his ko-telsu. (8) In my opinion, no Human can compare to him. I wouldn't compare him to a volcano, which is a hard, soulless, inanimate thing. I've always found him to be more like a symphony: a harmonious blending of disparate elements... far more engrossing and provocative than many of the one-note males we women usually encounter in space."

Across the table, Nurse Chapel enthusiastically clinked the side of her water glass with her fork, exclaiming, "Hear, hear! Well said, honey!"

McCoy blinked and looked at Kirk. "I'm not sure, but I think they just insulted us."

"I'm sure," said Kirk.

"Artfully done, Little Sister," Sybok leaned across Spock's plate to whisper to Nyota. "You managed to obey our father, compliment your mate, and disarm the curious with a single blow. Who knew you were so skilled in sof'el'itju!" (9)

Nyota saluted him with her glass before looking at Spock. He gave her a sideways glance which told her little, but also rolled his hand under her fingertips, letting her read his gratitude through the touch. Smiling at him softly, she sipped her wine.

Watching them, Sybok declared, "I am going to have to find myself a Human wife." Christine perked up in her chair and grinned at him.

McCoy, clearing his throat to get her attention, said, "Excuse me, Nurse. What am I, chopped Ferengi slug-liver?"(10)

Sarek drew the captain's attention before Christine responded, "Captain Kirk, is everything in readiness to deliver the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation to New Vulcan on the morrow?"

"Yes, Ambassador. We're just waiting for Sa'aat to verify he's got all the security measures in place. We'll beam you directly into the Cathedral's Formal Chamber right before tomorrow's Council Meeting. Where is Sa'aat, by the way? I invited him..."

* * *

"You are certain?" Sa'aat asked Sionak as they stood before a monitor in his small apartment in the city. Despite the prestige and trappings of his new rank, and his new office in the Cathedral, he was determined to keep these tiny rooms until they no longer served his purposes.

"Yes, osu." The burly guard pointed to a spot in the readouts on the monitor and repeated, "Here: just minutes ago, as traffic from the incoming ships carrying the delegates and the outgoing Federation shuttles was at its heaviest, a small personal craft leaves the planet. It is registered as the _Marom'es_ (11), currently in the possession of the Sreem Maat."

"Semuk's clan - "

"Yes."

"Beyond its ownership, what makes you believe T'Pau is using the vessel?"

"The _Marom'es_ is designed to accommodate a crew of three, plus ten passengers."

"And?"

"When the vessel left the planet, it appeared to the scanners as though no one was aboard... and the ship did not respond to hails."

"So either it was able to launch itself and run on autopilot or the passengers and crew were somehow shielded from conventional scans and evading communication."

"Affirmative."

Sa'aat stepped away from the monitor and paced the room for a moment. He had snatched a fleeting confirmation that T'Pau was still on New Vulcan from T'Janikrel, and he had already suspected T'Pau had used some form of kelbonite shielding in her escape from the lava tube. Logic would suggest, therefore, she might employ the same tactic to escape from the planet. "One must credit her for being both ingenious and bold. If the _Marom'es_ is indeed her mode of escape, she chose her moment well: less than a day before the Council Meeting when security would be focused around the Cathedral and the delegations... And if she remains on the planet, the escaping ship was an excellent decoy. What is the ship's trajectory?"

"It bypassed all the ships in orbit and seemed to be on a heading toward Draylax and the Bassen Rift."

"An odd destination..."

"That track would take the ship near the Romulan Neutral Zone."

"Yes."

"Shall we pursue?"

"No," said Sa'aat. Sionak tilted an eyebrow in surprise, but lowered it as Sa'aat continued, "Not we. If the flight of the _Marom'es_ is a ruse, and T'Pau remains on New Vulcan, I do not want my best klashausu out chasing phantoms. Have Smish take the _Wan-Wein_. (12) Tell him to follow the _Marom'es_ discreetly, and keep me apprised of his progress. He is not to engage or intercept the vessel without my direct order. Meanwhile, I want you to investigate the area from where the _Marom'es_ departed and let me know if there is any evidence suggesting who was, or was not, on that flight."

"Yes, osu."

* * *

"Father tells me your mother's katra currently resides aboard this vessel, Spock," Sybok lifted a _slor-tuh_ (13) from a tray, presented to him by a yeoman, with his fork.

"Yes," said Spock, declining the treat. The yeoman moved on, and Nyota took one of the tufts from the platter and set it on her plate.

"I'm happy for you." Sybok chewed briefly and swallowed. "Truly. I know how much Lady Amanda means to you... and to Father."

"You are gracious," Spock said with an appreciative head bow. He knew the subject of mothers and their katras was a touchy one for his half-brother. Sybok had been as attached to his mother, T'Rea, as Spock was to Amanda, and when, upon her death, T'Rea's katra had been forcibly removed from her body and placed in a vre'katra in the Hall of Ancient Thought, Sybok had been furious. Deepest grief replaced his anger, however, when, upon shoving his way into the chamber to meld with his mother's katra, T'Rea's spirit allowed itself to dissipate and die rather than face continued confinement. (14) It was that Sybok, pained and grieving, whom Spock had first met as a child.

"It seems, for us, we often find small graces and triumphs, in moments of misery." Spock said, circumspect. "Upon T'Rea's death, you and I found one another, and that was a blessing. When I lost myself to the shariv t'kae, I was able to retrieve my mother's katra, another gift. And now, I am gratified to see you return to our people, Sybok. You have been too long absent."

"Yes. The banishment was prohibitive... although, I do admit, I could have kept in better touch with you, Little Brother. Time, distance, and personal pursuits kept us separated, but I hope, as we progress forward, we can both make more of an effort to stay connected."

"That is my hope as well."

"Will you be staying on New Vulcan, Sybok?" Nyota asked.

"If I can, yes. The V'tosh ka'tur hope to establish a separate colony on New Vulcan; open our own schools of thought; provide sanctuary for those Vulcans who don't subscribe to the Traditionalist interpretation of Surak's words..."

"A _separate colony_?" Kirk asked. "Like on another land-mass or something? Or will you stay close to the main city?"

"Homesteads and land-rights haven't been worked out yet; that's supposed to be part of what will be discussed at the Council Meeting."

"Under the old system," Sarek explained, "estates had been made up of acreage owned and worked by clans and families over generations; now and we have to start over. Children born under the Ek'tevan Prerogative, the Taluhk Tan, are guaranteed property by the State, but how much and where it will be situated have yet to be determined. Personal property will have to be balanced against the State's need for farmland and preserves, and access to minerals, water, and other natural resources."

Sipping his tea, Spock allowed himself a few seconds to muse on what sort of property he might like Swahn to have: perhaps some acreage, a little farm or vineyard, in the foothills He liked the idea of Swahn having a settlement somewhere, a home port, a touch-point... a world he could call home.

"Nothing will come quickly, of course," said Sybok. "Archeological, geological, climatological, and environmental impact studies have to be done. Deeds and property regulations will have to be put into place. Equitable disbursal of land will have to be maintained so no one feels neglected or cheated. I don't envy the duties of the bureaucracy - "

"A bureaucracy of which you will be a part, as the lead delegate for the V'tosh ka'tur," Spock reminded him.

"Yes." Sybok chuckled. "As I said: I don't envy the bureaucratic work."

"And will you still seek Sha Ka Ree?" Nyota asked him.

"Ahhhh. She does her homework," Sybok said to Spock, a bit surprised.

Spock nodded. "Dutifully."

"Sha Ka Ree?" Kirk asked.

"The Vulcan equivalent to the Human concept of the Garden of Eden," Sybok explained. "An idyllic utopia, a place of equality and equanimity, where - "(15)

"A myth," said Sarek bluntly. "Many V'tosh ka'tur are Sha Ka Ree zealots."

"As are many Traditionalists about their own beliefs," Sybok countered.

"Often their pursuit verges on the fanatical. Sybok's mother was lost to such a quest."

All of the softness and humor drained from Sybok's face. "Don't you speak about my mother."

Spock set a hand against his half-brother's wrist; looking Sybok in the eyes until some of the agitation and pique left them.

McCoy remarked, "I have to admit, Ambassador Sarek, I find it a little difficult to imagine a _'fanatic Vulcan'_; seems like a contradiction in terms."

"We are restrained and logical beings, Doctor McCoy, however, our fascinations and drives are profound; in some instances, far more profound than they are in Humans. It is the natural dichotomy of the Vulcan people, the reason for our self-enforced control. Without logic we would be lost to our passions... as were our ancestors."

"And that dichotomy is part of what women find so attractive in the Vulcan males," Nurse Chapel added, winking in Sybok's direction. He smiled, allowing her blatant, playful provocativeness to bolster his spirits and take his mind off of darker thoughts and past pains.

"Are Spock's drives profound, Uhura?" McCoy needled.

"Exceedingly - " Nyota took a heaping bite of the _slor-tuh_, then grimaced and gagged. The pastry tasted like prunes soaked in lemon juice. She swallowed, knowing that spitting it out would be a horrendous breech of etiquette, but pushed her plate away so she wouldn't accidentally sample any more. Seeing her distress, Spock handed her his glass of jade-water without comment.

"You are something of an expert in the interpretation of dreams, are you not, Sybok?" he deliberately changed the subject, as Nyota downed enough jade-water to wash away the taste of the _slor-tuh_.

"It depends on the dream... and the dreamer."

"Dr. Surrey tells me we are our own best interpreters when it comes to our dreams; nonetheless, I would like to ask you opinion about one I had recently."

"Certainly - "

Just as Spock began recounting his dream about the Shadow Being, the door opened with a _thiikk_, barely audible to the Humans over the voices in the room. All the Vulcans heard it, however, and turned to watch Sa'aat entering. He was still dressed in the dark faux-leather uniform, and cut a striking figure as he walked to the table, and took the open chair next to S'Risha.

"I apologize for my tardiness," he said to Captain Kirk. "Matters on the surface required my attention."

"So I see -" Kirk said. "The braid's back, and you've gotten a new uniform. So, you accepted the commission of Solai-Lan?"

"No," Sa'aat, smoothed a napkin over his lap, and accepted a plate from one of the attending yeomen. "- Fik-Zhel-Lan, actually." Some of the younger Vulcans at the table actually coughed with surprise, and Kirk looked at them, startled by their response. "It will be discussed in full at the Council Meeting," Sa'aat said dismissively, turning his attention to the variety of foods and drink offered to him. "Please. Do not allow my presence to interfere with your meals and conversation." He filled his plate with steamed vegetables, salad, and a cup of black bean soup.

"You were saying - " Dr. Surrey prompted. " - About your dream, Mister Spock."

"Yes," Spock said, as Sa'aat reached for a glass of the _Bar-kas Masu_ and took a deep swallow of it. He returned his focus to Sybok, "The Shadow Being was made of layers, all black film and undulating gauze, but between the layers were pale points of gray light, thousands if not millions of them."

Sybok's eyes lit up. "I had a similar vision, Little Brother! A whirling vortex filled with glowing nodules of memories and desires and thoughts, and a dark voice saying, 'Prah-tor na'zul-kunel - daungau snagel-tor wuh'rak ihsek-le-suma du.'" _(To get to the Mountain, you must first face/encounter the rime.)_

"My dream had a similar message," said Spock. "I was told that before I could go to the mountains, I had to shovel snow."

"Ohhhh. Two of the same blood, with the same vision," Sybok whispered, excitement making his voice tremble. "The message must be an important one!"

Sarek turned his attention to his glass of liqueur and sipped it. He presented himself with an air of someone who didn't want to encourage or bring attention to his son's fanciful belief in the importance of dreams. But he had also had a similar vision. During a recent meditation, he had seen himself in the depths of an infinite and incomparably dark ocean, in a trench so deep no light from the surface penetrated. He had been floating in the quiet sustaining darkness for quite some time, before slowly becoming aware he was surrounded by millions of tiny bioluminescent jellyfish. Just pricks of light at first, their numbers eventually became so vast the light from them became blinding…

"I experienced a similar vision," said violet-eyed Serran from beside Ensign Chekhov.

"And I," T'Kela acknowledged.

"And I," said Sol't'gol.

Enteria and T'Stala also nodded in assent.

"Sa'aat," said Spock, "you are the most adept among us. What have you to say on the matter?"

Sa'aat kept his own version of the shared mental picture to himself, but answered, "It is not unusual for visions to be projected and shared along the k'war'ma'khon. We all know this; we have all experienced them before."

"They're the lost katras, aren't they?" Sybok suggested, his eyes glimmering and hope-filled.

"I do not know what the lights represent."

"It _is_ they. I know it. I feel it, within my whole body. It is they! The lost ones. They call to us from the depths of the black hole." Sybok leaned over his plate to look at the Vulcans on his side of the table. "We all felt it. When their bodies died, we felt them die. Billions. The pain is etched in all of our minds." No one said anything, but no one denied him either. He looked at the Vulcans gathered on the opposite side of the table. "Some have survived The Genocide, and their spirits have been reaching out to us over the vastness of space: pale points of light in the blackness. We must go to them; rescue them."

"Temper your imagination, my son," Sarek cautioned. "We have only a collective image, a shared dream. No facts have yet presented themselves."

"Facts are easy enough to accumulate. Let us go to the black hole that was once our home world and see for ourselves!"

"We have pressing matters to attend to here, Sybok, on this world."

"But the souls of the lost, Father! We cannot abandon them."

"You are not even certain the souls are there. The Council Meeting is slated to begin tomorrow afternoon, and you have vowed to stand as the lead delegate for the V'tosh ka'tur. This is no time to go chasing phantoms." Sybok sat back, dropping his hands into his lap, squaring his shoulders, as Sarek said, "You will remain here. I will brook no argument."

When Spock was a child, he often heard his brother and father disagree in much the same manner. There was a constant skirmish of words, ideology and wills between them, and both men were strong and stubborn. Quarreling with Sarek was useless; only logic would persuade him to alter his view, and Sybok often hadn't the patience for that. His impatience, along with his penchant for fanciful idealism, was often his undoing. Punishment for violating one of Sarek's mandates was never physical; he had never raised a hand to either of his children. Instead, his punishments consisted of either open disapproval and denouncement, or a silent shunning... which, for Spock, had actually been the more difficult penalty to bear. As long as his father talked to him, he felt - even if the words were harsh - there was hope for them. But being ignored was isolating, debilitating. Sarek had "ignored" Sybok for decades, and Spock feared they were heading down the same course again. As seemed to be his lot, he once again played the peacemaker between them. "Perhaps," he suggested quietly to Sybok, "once things are settled here, we can make a Pilgrimage to Vulcan."

"Yes," Sybok's whole affect softened again.

"- Bring along the most capable Adepts and have them plumb the depths of the abyss. If there are katras there, the Adepts will find them."

"Yes."

"And if the souls are not there, the journey will still be worth making. It will give us an opportunity to lay our dead to rest - even as new lives are born on New Vulcan."

"That sounds like a marvelous idea, Mister Spock," Dr. Surrey said, feeling proud his patient had come so far in his own recovery.

"You approve, Doctor?" Sarek sounded mildly surprised.

"Absolutely. The pilgrimage has long been a psychological archetype, an action allowing for contemplation and healing on a very deep unconscious level. It is, by its very nature, a sort of walking meditation; a remedial trip, if you will. Many different peoples of many different planets have documented the emotional and physical benefits of such an exercise - when it's done with proper planning and with an open state of mind, of course. Vulcans have been through an unprecedented trauma; making a pilgrimage back to your home world may, as Spock suggested, provide you with a mechanism to release your grief into the void, expunge your anger, make room for the new and the living..." Surrey looked back at Spock and smiled at him. "As I said, I think it's a marvelous idea."

"Thank you, Doctor."

From his end of the table, Sa'aat said nothing, but lifted his glass of _Bar-kas Masu_ in Spock's direction with an approving nod.

* * *

(1) **François de La Rochefoucauld:** not to be confused with the French Cardinal La Rochefoucauld, François VI, Duc de La Rochefoucauld, Prince de Marcillac was a noted French nobleman and writer who lived in the 1600's on Earth. According to Wikipedia: _"Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche had a great admiration for La Rochefoucauld and was influenced not only by his ethical stance, but also his writing style."_

(2) This is a twisted version of the quote by the author Mark Overby, which actually reads: "Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense."

(3) **Alcohol:** Although it was never addressed in canon, some non-canon Trek references state that alcohol doesn't affect Vulcans - however, they can become inebriated on chocolate (which is why I have, in my stories, one of Spock's favorites treats to have strawberries drenched in chocolate and pepper). "Vulcan Brandy" is supposed to have chocolate in it according to DS9. **Bar-kas Masu**, which translated from the Vulcan means "Spice-Water", is a drink I made up myself; it is not canon.

(4) **Lack of articles:** In the Vulcan language there is no use of "articles" such as "the", "an" or "a", as there is in English. And the "syntax" of the Vulcan language is different from English as well, as sentences are usually formed with the verb first, then the subject/object, and then everything else. An English sentence, for example, might read "Kirk and Spock go to the zoo," whereas, in Vulcan, the structure would shift to, "To go zoo Kirk and Spock".

(5) **Shi'yon:** the Vulcan word for "volcano", or more precisely_, "an opening in the earth's crust through which molten lava, ash, and gases are ejected"_ according to the VLD.

(6) **Pi'Ko-kai**: translated from the Vulcan, this means "Little Sister".

(7) **Koon-ut so'lik**: the Vulcan proposal of marriage which leads to **kal'i'farr** (the marriage itself).

(8) **Ko-telsu**: the Vulcan word for "wife".

(9) **Sof'el'itju**: A Vulcan martial arts form which means "Dance of Combat" in which the combatants stay about a meter away from each other at all times.

(10) **Slug-liver:** A Ferengi breakfast food, generally served raw. _Deep Space Nine_.

(11) _**Marom'es**_**:** The Vulcan word for "excellence".

(12) **Wan-Wein:** The Vulcan word for "cloud cover".

(13) **Slor-tuh**: translated from the Vulcan it means "sweet heap"; a Vulcan delicacy similar to a tiny Bundt cake. **Author's Note:** this is strictly non-canon; I made it up myself.

(14) **T'Rea's past:** this is from the Star Trek-based novel _"Sarek"_ by A.C. Crispen and the novelization of _"Star Trek V: The Final Frontier"_, as well as information gleaned from the Memory Alpha and Memory Beta sites. Another site, The Orion Chronology, purports that T'Rea committed suicide after mind-raping another adept at Gol, but I haven't been able to find anything that substantiates that claim.

(15) **Sha Ka Ree**: also spelled "Sha-ka-ri", the mystical and mythical center of Creation, the place where the gods held domain; likened to the Romulan concept of _Vorta Vor_. Sybok and other zealots believed the entrance to it was a physical place somewhere along the rim of the galaxy.


	26. Chapter 26

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the beta'ed version of this chapter. Thank you again to Farstrider; the best editor/beta/person ever!

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:**

As the dessert course continued, Kirk and most of the other Humans chuckled at Sybok's failed attempts to goad Tasmeen into a food fight. Little blobs of _slor-tuh, _catapulted from Sybok's spoon, bounced off her head and place setting. She sat, closed-fisted, with her forearms on either side of her plate and her lips pressed tight, trying hard not to laugh at her "brother's" antics. When one bit plopped into her glass of water, Captain Kirk and several Human males jumped from their chairs, raised their arms over their heads, and shouted, "Gooooal!" Their exclamation coupled with Sybok's infectious laughter made it difficult for Tasmeen to retain her composure. Looking down at her plate, forcing her voice level, she said, "Please, stop."

"Ohhhh, you know you don't really want us to stop," Sybok chided her as he went to her chair and tickled the back of her neck and ears until he managed to compel a single giggle from her. He hugged her against his broad chest, saying softly into her hair, "Kanlar bolau nam-tor kanlar - pi'ko-kai." _(Children need to be children, Little Sister.)_

"Eh sasular bolau nam-tor sasular, Sybok-kam," she whispered back, still fighting to keep the grin off her face. _(And adult men need to be adult men, Sybok.)_

"Ri kwon-sum'uh! Nam-tor veh rufai t'hasu sasu dvelik uf kup-klosha du." (_Not __always__! One advantage of being an adult man is choosing how you will behave.)_

"Ni kupi-klosha'uh rom kuv vesht dvel-tor du ha?" (_So you __could__ behave well, if you chose to?_)

"What is she saying?" the captain asked Nyota.

"She's telling him to behave himself," Sarek put in. "Tasmeen is a very intelligent child."

Kirk chuckled, while next to Tasmeen, Sybok asked, "Istau nash-veh nam-tor klosha rom du ha?" _(Do you wish me to behave well?)_

"Ha." _(Yes.)_

"Ki dungi t'du." _(By your will.)_ Sybok gave her a low flourishing bow before returning to his seat. Straight faced, he sat, smoothed a napkin over his lap, and folded his hands primly on top of it. Tasmeen hid her grin with her sleeve as she fought to restrain it. A few seconds later, Ensign Chekhov lobbed a spoonful of _slor-tuh_ at Dr. McCoy and all the Humans at the table burst into laughter. The intercom shattered the boisterous atmosphere.

"Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock to the Medical Bay, Stat."

The room grew utterly silent as smiles fell from everyone's faces and all eyes darted between the doctor and Spock. Stunned, Spock pushed away from the table and rose to his feet in a single fluid movement. He was already at the door before McCoy had made it past the end of the table. They shared a knowing look as they exited the Captain's Mess. Nyota, a step behind them, extended her hand to Spock as they rushed through the doorway and into the corridor; he reached back and took it without looking.

Nurse Chapel rose from her seat, her napkin fluttering unheeded to the floor from her lap. "I'll go find out what's happening - "she said, following after the departing trio. Captain Freeda retrieved the fallen cloth and set it back on the table, her eyes now a dark violet shade, mirroring her worried mood.

Captain Kirk looked around the dinner table, realizing the jovial, convivial mood was shattered, and there was no way to retrieve it gracefully. "If I may," he said, and everyone looked to him. "I'd like to propose a toast, before I forget." He raised his glass, and the others followed suit. "To New Vulcan: may she find her way, live long, and prosper."

"To New Vulcan," everyone echoed.

* * *

It took a little over two hours to get Swahn stabilized again. Delicate blood vessels had ruptured, leading to bleeding in his brain.

"We call it intraventricular hemorrhage, or IVH," McCoy explained after the baby had been returned to the ICU from surgery. "It's not uncommon in preemies as young as Swahn; about a third of kids born before twenty-six weeks get them. Don't worry. This was a relatively minor bleed. We shouldn't see any long-term damage from it." (1)

"Thank you, Doctor," Spock said, exerting every emotional control he had in order to stay calm, rational. His heart had seized in his side at the emergency call. A day ago, he had felt nothing for Swahn; now, the idea of losing his son made Spock's insides ache. "I would like to stay with him."

"Sure," McCoy said. "I'll have the techs bring in some chaise lounges for you both."

Nyota stepped in closer to Spock as McCoy left. Before the dinner, Christine had whispered to her, "I've had a few friends who found out their lovers had kids by other women, and they freaked out and dumped the guys... or spent years hating the kids, until they realized it wasn't the kids they were in-hate with at all. Such a mess. You're incredible. Really. I'm so proud of you."

Nyota didn't feel incredible; she felt confused, inept, and worried she didn't know what she was doing. However, she didn't want to dump that on Spock while he processed his own feelings about what his son had just gone through. She had felt the full brunt of Spock's worry and panic through the touch-link when he had taken her hand, and was shocked by its intensity. Understanding, in that instant, how much Swahn meant to him, she was glad she had taken the high road and had promised to accept the infant. Spock hadn't allowed her to touch him since they had arrived in the Medical Bay; she suspected he he was trying to safeguard her from the magnitude of his emotions. Most people did not understand how psychically "sensitive" Vulcans were; sometimes sensory input was just too much for them. Spock's coping mechanisms included isolating himself in his quarters to play the lute or meditate. When he couldn't retreat, he piled up walls of discipline around himself, a sort of mental quarantine.

Nyota didn't want to impose, but she didn't want Spock to feel alone either. She tentatively put her hand on his back to remind him she was there for him, and was relieved when he didn't pull away or shrug her off. Scratching his back lightly, she said softly, "He's a fighter, Spock. He'll be all right." Spock remained silent. "He's just struggling now because he's so new, so small..." Spock closed his eyes and took in a long breath. "Do you need anything?"

He took her hand from his back, and at first, she thought he was rejecting her contact, but instead, he brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them, murmuring, "I have what I need."

* * *

"Will you not go see the child?" Sybok asked his father as they exited the Captain's Mess. The dinner party had straggled to a finish, and everyone was gone except for the yeomen cleaning the room.

"I have no medical expertise. The child has his father and stepmother. What purpose would my being there serve?"

"It would serve to show Spock your support in this difficult time."

"He is strong, and wise enough to seek help when he requires it. I intend to allow him his privacy, so he may focus his energies upon himself and his child."

"Have you even seen the little one yet?"

"No," Sarek admitted. "It is my intention to wait until he is more stable."

"And what if he is never more stable?"

"Then I will have spared myself the discomfort of bonding with a grandchild I cannot keep."

"You don't want to feel the pain of another loss."

"Of course I do not. Have we not all lost enough, grieved enough, ached enough, Sybok? Must we seek out pain and wallow in it?" Sarek turned down the corridor that would lead him to a turbolift and his quarters.

Sybok stood in the hallway for a moment, deciding what to do: he could go to Spock and stay the night with him at his son's bedside, or he could go after Sarek. Sybok's intuitive and empathic abilities were very acute: he knew that between Spock and Sarek, Sarek was in the deepest pain at the moment, so he took a deep breath and followed his father.

* * *

After leaving the _Enterprise_, before deploying his security details for the night shift, Sa'aat scrutinized the Cathedral's Formal Chamber one last time. Sionak walked the floor with him, taking notes, and adding an extra pair of eyes to the inspection process. The refitted room had two sets of double-doors, one at each end of the hall, through which guests could enter or exit. Guard stations had been set up both inside and outside the chamber at these points, as well as in the center of the walls at the front and rear of the space. This would make traffic control relatively simple, and allow his people to keep their eyes on the crowd throughout the proceedings.

The chamber was also fitted with surveillance nodes to record everything from a variety of angles, and included a media link that would allow anyone to view the Council Meeting from any remote location with an uplink to the feed. The meeting was going to be broadcast through the media link, and through five Federation journalists interacting with the delegates and sporting head-mounted recording gear to video-log everything. Sa'aat had already examined their gear, and it was in lock-up, not to be released to the journalists until just prior to the meeting, which would begin at thirteen-hundred hours tomorrow afternoon.

As he walked down a curving aisle of chairs, checking visually under each one - a scanner had already cleared the room, but he was very thorough - he asked Sionak, "Any word yet from the _Wan-Wein_?"

"No, osu."

"And about that other matter?"

"Only one escaped The Genocide."

"Which one?"

"Slorak."

"Ahhh... The Gisamsu. (2) And where is he now?"

"He is in retirement on Risa." (3)

"Risa? That is an unusual place for a Vulcan to retire... However, if you were a Vulcan trying to evade detection, hiding on an intergalactic pleasure planet where no one would think to look for you might be considered a logical choice."

"Shall we arrest him?"

"Not now. Slorak has eluded justice for over thirty years; a few more weeks will make little difference. Let him think he is safe; let him believe he is lost to us. I want him under surveillance, however. Have someone shadow him. I want reports on everything he does and everyone he meets or interacts with sent to me on a daily basis. I want to know everything he has done over the last three decades, his friends' names, his relations, enemies, everything. Understood?"

"Yes, osu."

Satisfied, Sa'aat went to the next row of chairs.

* * *

Spock left the ICU for a few moments to locate a warmed blanket in the now dark Medical Bay. He slipped it over Nyota where she laid, asleep, on one of the lounge chairs next to Swahn's isolette. She curled under its warmth with a slight smile. He carefully slipped her shoes off and set them on the floor before searching the room for an unused PADD. When he located a dormant one in one of the cabinets, he linked into his private log and perched on the edge of the other chaise, facing Swahn. With his senses as attuned to the now dozing infant as possible without forming a link, he started typing his thoughts for the day.

It was obvious he needed to start making plans for Swahn's short-term care and placement, and develop a system to provide for the child's long-term needs. In the short-term, Spock wanted Swahn to stay with him. To that end, he would file a formal paternity claim with both the New Vulcan government, as soon as it was established, and the Federation. Filing immediately with the Federation would allow Spock to petition to keep Swahn with him on the _Enterprise_, where the baby could receive the medical care he required. Once the petition was granted, and Spock expected that it would be, Swahn would be settled for at least several months. After that, Spock could apply for a permanent order of placement. There was precedence for this. Although the practice was frowned upon, given that starship missions were unpredictable and sometimes dangerous in nature, other parents had been allowed to keep their minor children aboard Starfleet vessels for extended periods. The fact Swahn had distinct and unavoidable medical needs would, Spock surmised, also make him an excellent candidate for a "special consideration" waiver under the Federation Family and Medical Act of 2193 and Section 29.2601 of the old Vulcan Bill of Rights, which, in turn, would keep him aboard the _Enterprise_ for as long as Spock served aboard the vessel.(4)

Spock was certain Nyota would help him raise Swahn, but he did not want to "inflict" childcare upon her, so he computed the costs of hiring a non-commissioned civilian to assist with the child's care when he was on-duty. He did not want it said Swahn's presence interfered with his or any other crewmember's duties. Paying for the nanny's room aboard the _Enterprise_ would also be his responsibility. Nyota might be willing to give up her personal quarters to the nanny and move in with Spock, but once again, he did not want to assume or impose anything, so he did as he often did: hope for the best, but plan for the worst.

Money was not an issue. Unlike most surviving Vulcans, who had suffered the loss of all their monetary resources and savings when their planet was destroyed, Spock's finances had been channeled through Starfleet and into credit accounts on Earth; and he had never been a wastrel, so his savings were hefty. This was not to say that supporting Swahn, a nanny, the plak-tau women and their offspring, as well as his bride, might not become a serious drain on his finances over time, but for now Spock was, even by Ferengi standards, a very wealthy man.

Along with the cost, finding a suitable nanny would require interviews and background checks, which would take time. Spock figured he could use some of his accumulated shore leave for that if need be. He would prefer a Vulcan governess, but would settle for a Betazoid or a Human. After all, finding a certified Vulcan Kan-Tun-Tansu among the truncated Vulcan population would prove complicated, if not impossible.(5) In truth, finding any individual willing to dedicate him- or herself to Spock's family, leaving hearth and home to travel throughout the galaxy, quite probably for several years at a stretch, with no possibility of advancement, might prove difficult. That was something Spock would address when, and if, the problem arose.

For the long-term, stipulations would have to be put into place to ensure Swahn's on-going care in the event of Spock's death: legal rights to inheritance, insurance coverage, continuing education, medical care, the selection of a guardian, a trust fund, etcetera. His khy'la'd'rew (6) would have to be amended to include all of this. Through the PADD, Spock connected to his personal communications node and sent memos to his bank, his Starfleet appointed attorney and Starfleet Command, cc-ing Captain Kirk on everything so he would know what Spock was up to, and how his change in status from bachelor to father might affect the ship, his duties, or the crew.

Spock was aware, as he went through these mental processes, of the fact that he was planning for only one child: Swahn. The unborn offspring of T'Liik and T'Edri had yet to have an impact on his person; he felt no connection to them. That might change once they were born, but for the time being he was content to focus on Swahn. Swahn's mother was dead, and therefore could offer no support to his care and upbringing. The same could not be said of T'Edri and T'Liik's children. He assumed the women would make their own plans and be responsible for housing and schooling their offspring. Although law had not yet defined the specifics, the Ek'tevan Prerogative had promised to take financial responsibility for any children born as a direct result of it... so T'Liik and T'Edri's children would not be without monetary support. What social, emotional, and spiritual support the children may eventually require of him could be handled, for the most part, at a distance, he believed. He had no intention of allowing the women and their children join him on the _Enterprise_. Beyond the distraction they would cause aboard the ship, putting them under the same roof as Nyota was out of the question. That much was clear to him; but he was not sure if it was clear to them yet. He needed to discover what they ultimately wanted and expected from him.

"Can't sleep?" Nyota asked drowsily from under the blanket.

"I do not require sleep," he said quietly, finishing a message and tapping the PADD's face to send it on its way. Nyota reached for him, and he turned to face her, but continued to clutch the PADD.

"How's the baby?" she asked, her fingertips against his thigh.

"Stable. Sleeping."

"And how are you?"

"Satisfactory."

He knew Nyota understood that when he answered with single-word sentences, it meant he was preoccupied with other priorities; he had once explained to her that at such times he only disengaged his thoughts to answer _"less important questions" _with the briefest, most accurate, most perfunctory statements possible. She let him focus, and patted the cushion of her chaise. "Can you at least sit with me while you work?"

Spock moved to her chair, sitting on the edge of the cushion near her waist, retaining the PADD in his lap. He crossed his feet under the chair, and began tapping another message into the PADD, as Nyota slipped her hand under his blue over-shirt, against his heart, and rubbed the spot lovingly. Halfway through the message, he placed his hand over hers, pressing her fingers against his skin. Gazing at her, he let his admiration and affection fill the small gap between them. She smiled a slow, contented smile and murmured, "You always know the right things to say, Commander."

"Not always," Spock admitted.

"Sonnets don't speak as beautifully to me as your mind does."

"You are biased."

"Yes, I am. Totally." Removing her hand from his, she adjusted her blanket, and he continued typing. "Who are you writing to?" she asked.

"To whom are you writing?" Spock corrected, unable to help himself: it was the way he was wired, always the instructor. Nyota giggled, rubbed the tip of her nose with the blanket, and repeated with an exaggerated British accent, "To _whooooom_ are you writing?"

A few moments went by before Spock admitted, "T'Liik and, by extension, the other women of my plak-tau."

"Oh?" Nyota tried unsuccessfully to squelch her resentment before he saw it. "What about?"

"They have been requesting an audience with me -"

"Every day since we arrived here, yes. Persistent creatures, aren't they?" She bit her bottom lip; that had been far bitchier than she had intended. _So much for Christine's notion I'm taking this remarkably well._

Spock ignored the tone, and continued mildly, "Two of them carry my children, and the pon t'keshtan approaches. Their persistence is understandable. Moreover, I have been remiss in meeting with them. It is something I should attend to before their children are born."

"Of course."

"The idea still makes you uncomfortable."

"No. Yes. Crap," Nyota said. "Spock, you know I love you; you know I want to bond with you. And I really think I can form a connection to Swahn. I do. He's such a fragile little bugger; he tugs every maternal fiber in me, no matter how much I try to deny it, but... I don't know if I can tolerate those other women and their kids. Thinking about them puts my teeth on edge. It's hard to be polite about the subject. I feel - like I said before, they've stolen something from me, from us; and when I imagine their children, it's like... seeing someone who robbed your house wearing your clothes on the street the next day. Does that make any sense?"

"Somewhat. There is the old Vulcan saying, however: Lu vazgal du nam-tor heh abru'teruklar-ru'lut ein-vel s'pi'tak vazgau tu." _(When you are robbed and smile, you steal something from the thief.)_ (7)

"So, I should put on a happy face..." Nyota shook her head. "I don't know if I can. Am I being selfish?"

"No, k'diwa. Knowing what your capacities and limitations are, and taking care not to abandon your Self in pursuit of other's wishes and demands is not being _selfish_, it is being _self-aware_. Make no apologies for it. Acting with self-awareness is evidence of wisdom," Spock said. "You do tend to be rather jealous, however."

Nyota pinched his arm, and he mouthed the word "ouch," even though she was certain she hadn't hurt him; he had an incredibly high tolerance for pain. "Nonetheless," he lightly rubbed his arm, "I would like to meet with T'Liik and the others to define and settle whatever accommodations they wish me to make on behalf of their children. I also want to make clear to them what your role will be in my future, so there are no erroneous expectations of me on their part. I would, therefore, like you to attend when I meet with them."

"You trust me not to kick them in the shins?" Nyota joked.

"I trust you to comport yourself with dignity, and to uphold the honor of my house and family - as would any Vulcan wife."

"Fine. I promise, no shin-kicking," she said. "You set the date and time, and I'll be there."

"Thank you," Spock said. He looked up the ship's calendar on the PADD. "Dr. Surrey has an opening tomorrow morning at zero-nine-thirty hours. Is that too soon?"

"Uhhh -" _Hell, yes, that's too soon!_ Nyota thought, but caught the words before she blurted them out. What good would it do to postpone the inevitable? What else did she have to consider? They needed to know what the plak-tau women wanted from Spock, and the sooner they had that information, the sooner they could get on with the rest of their lives. "No. That's fine; I mean, if it's okay with the Captain; and as long as we keep the meeting down to around an hour. I'll need time to set up my personnel and gear for the translation and transcription of the Council Meeting."

"Understood." Spock sent digital meeting slips to Surrey, Captain Kirk, and T'Liik before closing down the PADD and setting it beside Nyota's shoes. She stroked the backs of her fingers down the side of his face; his evening beard was coming in, and its prickliness made her tingle a little with desire. She ran the pad of her thumb slowly over his mouth, back and forth, until he parted his lips, and then, drawing his face to hers, she kissed him deeply. Her hands slipped into his hair as his hands slid under the blanket to her waist, gathering the fabric of her dress' skirt, up and up, until most of it was to her hips.

"Hey!" McCoy barked from the doorway. "Not in front of the baby, you two."

* * *

The following morning, Spock arrived at the turbolift to the bridge at the same time as Captain Kirk. As they entered the car, Kirk asked, "How's the baby?"

"Stable," said Spock as the lift activated. "You are the fifteenth person to ask me that within the last twenty-one minutes. I had hoped to keep the issue of my son private."

"Word travels fast on a starship."

"Apparently."

"Look, no one is trying to horn in on your privacy, Spock. They're just... Well, we're all concerned about you. You've been through a lot of crap lately, and we just want you to know we're here to support you."

"Evidently. No one has questioned Swahn's paternity or how he came to be aboard this vessel; they simply inquire about his health and make obligatory, if well-intended, offers of assistance."

"We've got a good crew."

Spock nodded as the lift stopped a deck short of the bridge to allow Scotty to enter. He stepped in between the captain and Spock and, as the door closed, asked, "How's the bairn, Mister Spock?"

Spock gave Kirk a _see what I mean?_ glance and answered for the sixteenth time, "Stable, Mister Scott. Thank you for asking."

"If you need anything, just let me know."

Kirk chuckled.

* * *

Sa'aat was going over the day's duty roster in his office when his personal com-link chirruped. Without looking up from the roster, he flicked the feed switch, activating the monitor. "Sa'aat -"

The office space filled with crackling static, and Sa'aat looked at the monitor. Electronic noise obscured most of the view - a jamming signal, no doubt - but he was able to make out Smish among the clutter. The audio was also distorted, so Sa'aat ordered, "Boost your signal, _Wan-Wein_."

After a few seconds, the visual and audio feeds marginally cleared up. "_Wan-W*zshitz-zshitz*_ to Fik-Zhel-Lan S_*zshitz*_aat."

"Report."

"The _Marom'es_ is destroyed No one was onboard. I repeat, the Marom'es is _*zshitz-zshitz* d_ecoy. I am under attack_*zshitz-zshitz*_ seems to be a_*zshitz*_-lan warbird. _*Zshitz-zshitz*_."

"Repeat. You are under attack?"

"Affirma_*zshitz*_."

"Show me your view screen."

The grainy image on the monitor shifted from the view of Smish in the cockpit aboard the _Wan-Wein_ to a view of the star field outside of the craft. Within view large chunks of debris could be seen whirling silently ahead of the _Wan-Wein_: the _Marom'es._

"There, Fik-Zhel-Lan. _*zshitz-zshitz*_Can you see it? A Romu-_*zshitz-zshitz*_ war_*zshitz-zshitz*_. De-cloaking to my starboard _*zshitz-zshitz*_."

A wavy fluctuation displaced the stars for a moment, and then the unmistakable form of a Romulan warbird appeared in its place.

Smish's voice announced, "They are powering up their_*zshitz-zshitz*_"

The front of the warbird lit with a bright weapon's discharge, and after a brilliant but silent explosion, Smish's transmission ended abruptly.

* * *

Preparing for the meeting with the plak-tau women required discussing how and where the meeting would take place: via com-link, aboard the _Enterprise_ or on the planet? The women insisted on meeting with Spock face-to-face. He didn't want them beamed up, fearing the molecular scrambling would compromise the pregnant ones' already fragile condition, and he had no intention of going to the planet until the Ek'tevan Prerogative had been abolished, so shuttling them to the _Enterprise_ was their only viable option.

There were also discussions about who would pilot the shuttlecraft, and who would meet the plak-tau women when they arrived aboard the ship. The women could feel insulted if a "subordinate" crewman was sent to collect and greet them; however, sending Captain Kirk or Sarek might give them the impression that Spock thought more highly of them than he did. In the end, violet-eyed Serran made things simpler by volunteering to shuttle the women to and from the _Enterprise_, and then escort them himself to Dr. Surrey's office for the meeting. Serran had always been attracted to the voluptuous T'Edri, and he had looked forward to finding some excuse to introduce himself to her and spend a few moments with her.

Shortly before their zero-nine-thirty appointment, he carefully ushered the women up the gangplank into the shuttlecraft, one-by-one. The two younger ones, Karil and V'Rha'lahn, stepped up first; both seemed far younger in person than they had in their pictures. Karil looked like a cherub, dressed in a rose and white gown, her hair no longer bobbed, but a mass of shiny dark curls around her heart-shaped face; and V'Rha'lahn looked oddly masculine in a long silver tunic over gray dress slacks. Her small black eyes darted to Serran's as she stepped toward the gangplank, and filled with a hint of hurt and disappointment; he wondered if it was because the male who had come for them wasn't Spock.

T'Edri was next, and, as always, Serran found himself immediately drawn to her. Her pregnancy magnified her curvaceous figure, making her look alluringly plump, almost indecently so, in her violet maternity gown. She had somehow augmented her MAGGIe to match it. Her hair was pulled into a swarm of tiny braids at the back of her head, and heavy _gahv_ earrings dripped down to her shoulders.(8) Serran bowed and gave her the traditional split-fingered greeting - which he had unconsciously failed to give the other women - and said, "I hope your travel will not be uncomfortable, T'Sai T'Edri."

T'Edri glanced coyly at him, and then looked at T'Liik coming up behind her. Tall and tanned, T'Liik seemed to be coppery all over: her eyes, her skin, her floor-length maternity dress, even the sheer scarf she wore over her hair had a sparkling copper over-sheen. Her MAGGIe wasn't enhanced in any way, however. A necklace with heavy _puhku_ stones decorated her neck, and matching strands of bud-shaped beads ran through her hair. (9) She followed T'Edri into the shuttle, allowing Serran to shut the doors behind them.

* * *

Nyota, in her short-skirted uniform, ignored the couch and more comfortable chairs in Dr. Surrey's office, and sat on one of the smaller chairs he had added to the room to accommodate everyone expected at the meeting. She crossed her legs - _tight enough to crack walnuts_, she thought to herself – and one foot waggled with pent up energy. She had promised Spock she wouldn't embarrass him by lashing out at the plak-tau women, but as the appointment drew near, she wasn't sure she could keep her promise. She bristled with anxiety, understanding how some Vulcan males must feel during Pon Farr: full of anxiety, willing to fight to the death to secure their rights to their mates if they had to. Spock seemed full of energy, too, although he was better at containing it. Nyota watched him pace around Surrey's office, smoothing his hair, straightening his uniform, and scanning the room for any hazards, imagined or real. When Spock picked up a toy boa constrictor from the floor and coiled it neatly into a basket on a shelf, Nyota was certain Dr. Surrey linked all sorts of psychosexual connotations to his action, and that notion just made her antsier.

"When are they getting here?" she asked no one in particular.

"Serran announced their arrival in the Shuttle Bay three-point-four minutes ago. Assuming they encounter no delays, they should be here in less than eight minutes," Spock assured her.

"I don't have to talk to them, do I?"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Lieutenant," Dr. Surrey said. "As a matter of fact, if this is going to be too hard on you, you can excuse yourself, or view the meeting from a remote location."

"Oh, no," Nyota shook her head, her foot waggling harder. "No. I'm not leaving those she-zombies alone with Spock." Spock frowned slightly at the term, but kept his comments about its obvious inaccuracies to himself. She asked him, "Do we tell them about Swahn?"

"I would prefer we did not. If they perceive one of the offspring is being afforded accommodations on this vessel, they may presume entitlement to such an accommodation themselves."

"We don't want that."

"No."

"What if they want you to leave the ship, leave Starfleet -?"

"I have no intention of making such an adjustment."

"What if they don't want me to bond with you?"

"The decision is not theirs to make. They have no lawful claim to my person."

The answers satisfied Nyota, but she still fidgeted in her seat. After a few minutes, she asked Spock, "How do I look?"

"You look very prim and efficient," he told her, and when her face crumbled into a disappointed frown, he cocked his head at her, curious.

With her shoulders slumped, she asked apologetically, "Am I being a complete idiot?"

"For God's sake, don't answer that," Dr. Surrey told Spock with a grin, just as the door chimed. He was still smiling as the women filtered in, one after the other, with T'Liik in the lead.

Nyota rose to her feet, and felt, rather than saw, Spock come up to align himself at her side. She had no doubt the placement was deliberate; he was not only indicating that he considered her his equal, he was also displaying to the plak-tau women that they were a united front. Nyota spread her fingers wide to touch his, and was somewhat disappointed when, rather than return her touch, he turned his body slightly to avoid it.

"Welcome, everyone. I'm Dr. Andrew Surrey, the facilitator of this meeting. Ladies, please, find a seat wherever you're most comfortable."

Each glanced about the room, letting their eyes skim over Nyota and fall on Spock, as they gave him the formal, traditional Vulcan greeting, before finding places to settle: the two younger ones on the sofa, T'Edri in the blue chair, and T'Liik in the plaid. Surrey asked, "Can I get anyone anything? Some jade-water, tea, anything?" All declined the offer of refreshments with a courteous shake of their heads, their eyes on Spock the entire time.

Without speaking Nyota sat in her chair and expected Spock to pull up a chair beside her. Instead, he set the chair out of the way, and remained standing, situating himself behind her seat, one hand resting lightly near Nyota's right shoulder. Grateful for his proximity, Nyota relaxed a little.

"I regret, Commander Spock," T'Liik said with all lightness and courteousness, as though chatting with a friend over tea, "that T'Sai T'Makh was unable to join us. I know you had shown some interest in meeting her as well, but, unfortunately, her pregnancy is proving to be a bit more... pugnacious... than usual, and she remains in accouchement. I did, however, tell her of your inquiry, and she would like to meet with you when time and circumstances permit you to return to the surface."

"Thank you, madam," Spock said, all business, smooth, detached. "I believe my father plans to visit with her later this morning."

"Her child is his?"

"Yes, madam."

"A male or a female?"

"Male."

"So you will have another half-brother, and the legacy of your family will persevere."

"Yes."

"I am pleased to hear this. So many clans and families were destroyed by The Genocide." T'Liik set her hands on top of her protruding belly. "I am glad to have been able to play some small part in the reclamation of our race... andyour clan." Nyota's insides tighten at that remark; it seemed as though T'Liik was rubbing her face into the fact that she hadn't been able to give Spock a child yet.

To add to her discomfort, V'Rha'lahn's small dark eyes scanned Nyota's short skirt, bare legs, and partially revealed thighs with undisguised disapproval. "I suppose congratulations are in order," the young woman said to her, raising an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

V'Rha'lahn gestured toward Spock and said in a voice far too snappish for a Vulcan, "He takes up the _adun'rak_ (10) beside you. The stance is certainly for our benefit. He's leaving no doubt about your position within his sphere."

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you bonded yet?"

"The pronouncement has been made," Spock informed her, firmly, without emotion. "The formal ceremony is postponed until our business on New Vulcan has resolved itself."

"Your _business_... You mean us."

"I was referring to medical emergency that brought the _Enterprise_ here, and the Council Meeting, but... You are considered part of our business, yes."

"A very small part," Nyota said, her jaw tight. She did not like the younger woman's tone. "You're not one of the pregnant ones, though, are you? So, I'm not even sure exactly why you're here."

"I was invited."

"Really? By whom?"

"Ladies -" Dr. Surrey leaned forward slightly to intervene. He looked to T'Liik, the eldest of the group, and gave her a pleasant and somewhat apologetic smile. "I don't wish to seem discourteous, madam, but our appointment time is brief. Lieutenant Uhura, Commander Spock, and I do have other pressing duties requiring our attention today, with the Council Meeting coming up and everything. So, if you would come to the point of your visit, we can proceed without delay."

T'Liik moved to the edge of her seat, saying, "As you wish, Facilitator Surrey." She turned to Spock. "All of us - " she glanced at Nyota, and then back to Spock, " – were presented to you under the auspices of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, and as a result of those pairings, T'Edri and I are with child. She carries a male, and I, a female."

"Yeah, I think we're all aware of those events," Nyota said, and V'Rha'lahn flashed another dark glance at her.

"Indeed," said Spock, but his tone was softer than Nyota's, more inquisitive than accusatory. "Beyond the symptoms aggravated by the syncolchicine, have your pregnancies proved difficult?"

"Difficult?" T'Edri asked. "How do you mean?"

"Hybrid pregnancies can be complicated. When my mother carried me, it took several surgeries and a regiment of medicinal additives to keep me viable. As your children are presumably hybrids, I was wondering if you had experienced similar dif-"

"If you wish to test for paternity, I have no objections."

"I would prefer a testing, yes, thank you, madam, but that was not my point-"

"Do you doubt their paternity?" V'Rha'lahn interrupted. "These ladies are Vulcans; they would never lie to you. If their pregnancies are without extraneous complications it is most likely because their fetuses are more Vulcan than Human."

"More Vulcan than Spock, you mean," Nyota bristled again.

"Weht whl'q'n do fan-kam kupi-keshta tu." _(More Vulcan than any child you could bear.)_

"Federation Standard, please, ladies," Dr. Surrey said.

Nyota ignored him, pursing her lips in a sort of grim smile, and said, "K'puu kup keshta-tor kan k'sa-veh dungi nam-tor nash-veh." _(At least I will be __able__ to bear a child by him.)_ She had hoped to surprise them by displaying her fluency in their language, but if any of the women were impressed, they didn't show it. In fact, V'Rha'lahn seemed more annoyed than surprised.

"Brash'es t'du vesht skan-tor win nam-tor," she said. _(Your fertility has yet to be proven.)_ She tilted her head and looked down her nose at Nyota. "Heh ri whl'q'n kosu dungi-glavau spo'ish ko-veh." (_And no Vulcan woman would display herself like that.)_

"Kroikah'uh!" Spock said in a brusque, commanding tone Nyota had never heard from him before. _(Stop!)_ It startled V'Rha'lahn enough to make her jump in her seat. He took a few steps forward; his entire posture a soundless threat of acute masculine power.

All of the Vulcan women immediately averted their eyes to the floor.

Spock positioned himself between the chairs and the couch, looking down upon them, his whole body a pillar, and with an anger that didn't show on his face but infused his voice with its heat, growled words that made Nyota blush and made the women shrink a little in their seats. "Nyota Uhura nash-nam-tor, ko-klugasu t'S'chn T'gaiSpahk t'maat Telak-sen-deen. Meskarau rim t'ek'du fan-to-tashan fi'nash-veh. Nyota k'hat'n'dlawa nam-tor. Nyota t'sai kelek t'nash-veh. Nyota veh vi dungi-keshta kanlar ashaya t'nash-veh nam-tor. Ri tular. Worla tular. Lu ki'stariben ko-veh k'nuhk-fam - dor-fam du nash-veh heh skann t'nash-veh - heh dor-fam tular. Bae'cok k'a'ri dor dular il trashu ish-shi." _(This is Nyota Uhura, fiancée of S'chn T'gai__Spock of the clan Telak-sen-deen. None of you holds any claim/custody upon me. Nyota is the other half of my heart and soul. Nyota is the Lady of my house. Nyota is the one who will bear the children of my love. Not you. Never you. When you speak to her with disrespect, you dishonor my household and me - and you dishonor yourselves. Comport yourselves with the proper dignity, or leave this place.)_

"Ha, Spahk," T'Liik said softly, not daring to raise her eyes to him just yet. _(Yes, Spock.)_

"Kosular t'Uzh T'Kashi - vakau ra eh vi il-fal-tor du," he said to T'Edri. _(You are women of New Vulcan; remember what and whom you represent.)_

"Ha, Spahk," she answered, eyes down as well.

Then he looked to V'Rha'lahn, and she, too, did not meet his eyes. He said, "Dungi ma-fam nash-veh kanlar t'nash-veh pukeshta vi'ni mau fnu-ven." _(I will not have my children born into such acrimony.)_

"Ha, Spahk."

"Krei'nuv tular." _(Control yourselves.) _He said to all of them, and added, "And speak in Federation Standard, so Facilitator Surrey can understand what you are saying."

As Spock stepped back beside Nyota, T'Liik said, "Our apologies," and lifted her eyes again. The others followed suit, each looking a bit humbled.

"Ooookay. Thank you," Dr. Surrey said, running a hand through his graying curls. "I... understand this meeting may be uncomfortable for everybody, and that hormones and tempers can sometimes run high, but we're here for the children, remember. Let's stay focused on what's best for them." Silent nods answered him from around the room. "Now, if I recall, the last question was to Mister Spock. Miss V'Rha'lahn was asking if he was questioning the paternity of Lady T'Liik's and Lady T'Edri's children. Would you like to address that, Mister Spock?"

"I do not doubt paternity," Spock said. "However, I believe a verification made by competent authorities would be prudent. It would remove any doubt for all time, guarantee the children their just inheritance and long-term support, and assure them a place within my family and clan."

"That seems to be reasonable. Don't you agree, ladies?" Dr. Surrey asked.

"Yes. I will comply with the requested testing, as will T'Edri," said T'Liik as T'Edri nodded. "In the interim, since you do not question paternity, we wish to ascertain your opinions and desires for the naming and disposition of our mutual offspring."

"Are there any names you prefer?" T'Edri asked.

"No," said Spock.

"Then I would like to name our son _'Sedok'_, after my father. He was a maker of ka'athyras, artisan of some note in the tradition of Sarpk. He had his own shop in Vulcana Regar." (11)

"You play the lyre, don't you, Mister Spock?" Surrey asked.

"Yes. My own ka'athyra was made in the same tradition, T'Sai T'Edri. The name Sedok would honor us both."

T'Edri's face brightened. "Sedok it will be, then."

Nyota shifted in her chair. She could live with the name, but the fact they were naming the children at all made her uncomfortable. Once they had names, the infants were "claimed" and made "real", not just to Spock, but to all of New Vulcan. It didn't help matters when T'Liik announced she wanted to name her daughter T'Aitlu. "T'Aitlu..._of desire_," Nyota translated aloud. "Well, that's subtle."

"It is an unusual selection," Spock agreed. "Do you care to elaborate, T'Sai T'Liik?"

"Simply put, I have, since I was a young woman, had the desire to have a daughter. It was always my intention, therefore, to name one thus."

"I see."

"Where will this daughter of your desire reside?" Nyota asked.

All the women turned in unison toward her, as though drawn by the same string. She didn't budge under their gaze, but she felt Spock's little finger touch her shoulder; a gesture of support, and no doubt a reminder to keep her cool. "Neither T'Edri nor I wish to leave New Vulcan, nor do we wish to withhold Spock's offspring from him. The children should always have access to their father; do you not agree?"

"Of course," Nyota said stiffly.

T'Liik looked to Spock. "We had assumed you would remain with your ship, as your Starfleet duties require. Further, in the face of your betrothal, we now also assume you will wish to remain with your _ko-kugalsu_ and make your life together."

"That is my preference, yes."

"As the father of our offspring, it is your right, under _halishau na'kilkaya,_ (12) to request the children be placed with you. We will not, in any way, prohibit or obstruct your contact with your children; but we ask that you agree to allow them to remain with us on New Vulcan."

"There is no reason for me to invoke the _halishau na'kilkaya_; I have no basis to assume the children would be in any danger if left in your care. I believe your children's best interests will be served if they remain with you, their mothers, among their people. You will, however, allow my children to interact with one another, come to know one another as siblings, will you not?"

Nyota immediately noticed Spock's differentiating between "your children," those of T'Edri and T'Liik, and "my children," Swahn and any child Nyota may give him in the future. He was deliberately delineating between them, without referring to Swahn by name, while leaving the door open for Swahn to interact with Sedok and T'Aitlu in the future.

If T'Liik understood what Spock was doing, she gave no hint of it, and simply said, "Naturally."

Nyota reached up to touch Spock's hand. "The genograms," she reminded him.

"Ah, yes. Facilitator Surrey had suggested, prior to this meeting, that we construct genograms to assist us in better defining our family relations and ties. We barely had the opportunity to begin that process before this meeting. Are you aware of the concept?"

"Yes," said T'Liik, although T'Edri did not look too sure about it.

"Excellent. Would you all be agreeable to constructing similar graphs of your own families, so we may share them and link them upon the birth of your children? The information may prove invaluable to all of us."

"Yes. The exercise should prove insightful. I have no objection to it."

"Nor I," said T'Edri.

Spock looked to Karil and V'Rha'lahn. The two younger women glanced at one another, and then Karil, her springy curls bouncing, looked back at him. "We have no children by you."

"No. However, you were both part of my plak-tau. Genograms do not simply chart familial lines; they also chart unattached partnerships and other pairings." That was not a lie; however, Spock was willfully omitting the fact that T'Cloo was loosely related to both Karil and V'Rha'lahn through the Sreem Maat. By detailing their relations to T'Cloo, Spock could confirm if they were Swahn's distant aunts or cousins.

"Very well," said Karil. "We will comply."

"Cooperation," Dr. Surrey said. "I love it. Let's keep it going."

"I would like to establish trust funds for the children, when time permits," Spock said to T'Liik and T'Edri. "If you also require support, I will do what I can to compensate you as well."

"That is most generous," said T'Liik.

"Indeed," said T'Edri. "Perhaps a small provisional stipend, until we have been able to establish permanency on the planet."

"That should be easy enough to arrange," Spock said.

"Will he be supporting all of you?" Nyota asked, looking at Karil and V'Rha'lahn specifically.

V'Rha'lahn bristled slightly, and Karil touched her arm to calm her before directing her answer to Spock, "We expect nothing of you, Commander Spock. We do not seek funding or housing, or land or goods, but we do desire, nonetheless, to maintain contact with you - with your permission, of course."

"I do not understand."

"We would like you to consider us _friends_."

"I hold no animosity against you."

"No. You misread my meaning," Karil squirmed a bit, coming as close as a Vulcan could come to displaying emotional discomfort. "If I may explain. You are aware that we met you in the arena during your induced plak-tau; you may not be aware that each of us chose you, and only you, as the one with whom we wished to be mated with under the Ek'tevan Prerogative."

Spock looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Your family was practically royalty on Vulcan, Spock," Nyota reminded him.

"Yes. It was," Karil acknowledged. "But that was only a small part of what spurred us."

"You hold some affection for me?" Spock asked, still looking puzzled.

"For my part, it was initially more an infatuation," Karil admitted. "You are Spock, son of Sarek, related by distant blood to Surak, the Father of All We Became. You are said to be _the Vulcan who is less than a Vulcan, and yet more Vulcan than __any__ Vulcan_. You are an enigma, something of a legend among our people, and I have, over time, come to desire to be a consort of that legend.(13) My affection for you flourished. I did not know, until now, of course, that you had already chosen another, so, when given the opportunity to mate with you, I took it. I believed that, even if I could not have you, having your child would be sufficiently pleasing. I submitted myself to the arena, and there I opened my body to you. Unfortunately, it could not contain the child of a legend - I miscarried after only six weeks."

"I had no knowledge of this, madam. I do grieve with you at the loss of your unborn," Spock said quietly.

"You have always been a fascination for me, as well," V'Rha'lahn confessed softly. She leaned forward, folded her hands loosely, and stretched her thin, boyish legs. "Although you are older than I, and we had never met before the arena, I studied you, and followed your career. Like those among the Fonn Vulhkansu, I tried to pattern my behavior and successes after yours, and I hope eventually to enlist in Starfleet. When you rushed to warn us of The Genocide, and risked your life to save the heart of the Vulcan culture in the Katric Ark, I knew I had chosen my model well. You are intelligent and valiant, a model and a hero. I was in my first season when I entered the arena. You were the first to breach my wall. Afterward, I felt... 'born'... real, alive for the first time in my life. I thought of your seed inside me, and the joy of it infused me. But I was too young, too infertile, and I consider it a personal failure and tragedy that I was unable to bear you a child."

Spock blinked at her. This was all so unexpected. He had been bracing himself for an onslaught of demands and jealousies from the women, but their kind words and generous revelations knocked him loose from his moorings and set him adrift in confusion. He did not know how to respond. Having been treated with so much animosity and open bigotry from other Vulcans throughout his life, it had never occurred to him that some might actually find him desirable and worthy of emulation. He had even doubted the intentions of the Fonn Vulhkansu when they claimed him as their model, believing they only patterned themselves after him because they knew it would enrage the Traditionalists. The Human in him wanted to weep with gratitude. The Vulcan in him remained stoic and silent.

T'Edri spoke next, her voice quiet, reverent. "I, too, have been a distant admirer of yours, Commander. We moved in very different circles, and had never been introduced, but I saw you playing your ka'athyra during a diplomatic reception on Vulcan once. Yes, I knew you could play. You are quite accomplished, but what I recall most about your performance that evening was you chose to play _'Svai Haulan'_ by Stilk; an emotional piece which left some of the elders twitching in their chairs.(14) That accomplishment took both lyrical skill and personal fortitude. It is often difficult to find such a balance between the artist and the le-matya in a Vulcan male, and my heart went out to you that very moment. When asked whom I would choose to mate with during the induced plak-taus, your name was the only one on my lips. I barely know you, but Sedok will know you as sa-mekh, and will be taught to honor you always."

Spock bowed his head. "Thank you, madam," he said, his voice barely audible.

The others looked to T'Liik, and waited for her to add her story. She was quiet for a few moments, and then rose to her feet. Spock leaned forward to give her a hand, but she politely declined the support and his touch, in deference to Nyota. She smoothed down her dress, and placed one hand to her lower back, stretching a bit. Finally, she said, "I am elderly. I have not many would-be-children left inside me; so, when I chose my mate for the Ek'tevan Prerogative, I was very discerning. I am too old to suffer the pangs of adoration; nonetheless, like the others, I have come, over time, to hold you in great esteem, Commander Spock. I knew your father, briefly, and have always admired your family. Your blood is princely, and runs deep throughout the history of our home world, going back millennia, even before The Reformation. However, history was not your only allure. I admit that when you stood before the Transitional Council and spoke with such eloquence against the Ek'tevan Prerogative, I was stirred to the core. Not only are you the legend Spock, the hero Spock, the artist Spock, accomplished and rebellious, you are an amalgam of Vulcan philosophy and Human self-determination, a man of justice and conviction, willing to risk all for the benefit of all. You exemplified, in that moment, the very things I had always tried to instill in my own sons. So, as I said, when I was asked to choose a mate for the induced plak-taus, I was very discerning - and there was no other choice but you."

Nyota covered her trembling lips with her hand. The women's reverent and considerate words had brought tears to her eyes, and she was trying hard not to cry in front of them. Spock gently stroked the skin of her neck and shoulders with his thumbs, assisting her in regaining her composure. She removed her hand from her mouth, and reached back to touch one of his hands in response.

T'Liik made a gesture that included all the plak-tau women in its scope, "We have, over these many months, developed a deep rapport with one another, a sort of sisterhood, the _Ko-Kaitra T'Spahk_, if you will. (15) We have agreed to settle on an estate together once the new government is in place, and to continue to support and sustain one another. We were concerned that, if you chose to bond with one of us or took more than one of us as wife under the new order, our sisterhood would be challenged. As our affections for you run deep, we may have degenerated into bickering over who among us would share your bed. You have alleviated that concern by choosing someone outside our circle," she looked at Nyota. "For this, we are grateful; although we may, at times, have difficulty expressing our gratitude," she glanced at V'Rha'lahn.

"I admire your camaraderie," said Spock, "and your candor."

"Nemaiyo." (_Thank you._) T'Liik moved her skirt-tails out of the way of her feet and stepped toward the door, signaling her desire to finish the meeting. "I am confident I have the answers I need to move forward, and that our children will be properly cared for. Do you have any other questions for us, Commander Spock?"

"No, madam."

The others rose from their chairs, but T'Edri stopped the sisterhood from continuing to the door, saying to Spock, "I know - It is not within the Vulcan tradition, but I know Human males are often present at the birth of their children. Do you have a preference in that regard, Commander?"

Certain Nyota would object to him seeing any of the plak-tau women in such a… position, Spock replied, "I believe following the Vulcan tradition, under the current circumstances, would be best. However, I would like to be present at the _ahmaik_, if possible." (16)

"That is something easily arranged," T'Liik assured him.

"You will maintain contact with us?" V'Rha'lahn asked him. "Even when your ship is gone from this place?"

"I will. My word is given."

"We will inform you when our offspring are born," T'Liik continued toward the door, the others in her wake. The door opened, revealing Serran standing in the corridor.

"Your escort awaits, Ladies," Dr. Surrey announced.

"Seemingly so." T'Liik extended a hand out in the Human convention. "Thank you, Facilitator Surrey, for assisting us in this productive conversation."

"Well, I don't know that I did much of anything, but... you're welcome."

Spock held his hand up in the traditional Vulcan salute, saying, "May each of you live long, and prosper."

The plak-tau women all returned the gesture, saying in chorus, "Peace, and long life."

As they left, T'Liik taking the lead, Nyota noted T'Edri took Serran's arm and allowed him to walk with her. She slipped her own hands around Spock's upper arm, and as the door closed said, "I'm afraid I wasn't much help..."

"You did fine," Surrey assured her. "It actually went better than I thought it would. How are you two feeling about what was said?"

"I'm glad they're staying on the planet," Nyota admitted. "- And, I'm glad they have one another for support. Knowing they're not alone down there somehow makes me feel less like a bitch about wanting Spock for myself."

"That was honest." Surrey looked to Spock. "They said some really wonderful things about you. How did that make you feel?"

"Uncomfortable... Grateful... Confused. I had no idea they felt that way."

"Well, you come from a society that generally doesn't talk about desires and emotions, Mister Spock, so that's not really surprising. Given your cultural background, it was pretty brave of them to expose their feelings to you."

"Yes," said Spock. "And they cared enough about me to release me..." He gazed at Nyota, and then looked back to Surrey. "You told me, Doctor, that things do not have to be perfect to be comfortable. I believe I now understand what you meant."

* * *

(1) **IVH:** This information was taken from several medical sites on-line, but most notably from the article _"Common Preemie Health Problems"_ by Cheryl Morrissette, Guide. She wrote, in part: _"Premature babies, especially those born before 30 weeks, have fragile blood vessels in their brains. If those vessels break, an intraventricular hemorrhage (IVH) may occur. This bleeding into the brain, which occurs in up to 14% of infants born between 30 and 32 weeks and 36% of infants born before 26 weeks, may be mild or severe. Severe bleeds can have serious consequences, such as developmental delays. Mild bleeds usually have no long-term effects."_

(2) **Gisamsu:** the Vulcan word for _"poisoner"_; one who kills by poison.

(3) **Risa**: was a planet talked about throughout many of the trek television series and novels. According to the Memory Beta site: _"Risa is famous throughout the Alpha and Beta Quadrants as a place of tourism and recreation, and is referred to as a "pleasure planet." It got that reputation because of its constant, stable climate, its attractive landscapes, and most of all, its very friendly staff. Its native species, notorious for their open sexual mores, number approximately three billion, and the planet hosts about one billion tourists at any given time."_ **Author's note:** In my story _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_ Sarek found a Risan Horga'hn Fertility Statue in Spock's quarters, and was told Nyota had given it to Spock as a joke. Sarek didn't see the humour in it.

(4) **Federation Family and Medical Act of 2193** and **Section 29.2601 of the old Vulcan Bill of Rights**: Although the Vulcan Bill of Rights did exist in prior Trek stories, there was no "Section 29.2601", and the Federation Family and Medical Act of 2193, doesn't exist in canon either. I made up both citations based on the existence of the very real, Family and Medical Leave Act of 1993 (FMLA) which was signed into law in the United States in February of 1993 (Pub.L. 103-3; 29 U.S.C. sec. 2601; 29 CFR 825), and provided rights to families who had to leave work due to illness or injury, or in order to care for ill or injured family members. I assumed the Federation would have adopted something akin to that, to keep their officers and crew aboard their starships even in the event of a medical emergency.

(5) **Kan-Tun-Tansu:** The Vulcan term for "child caregiver"; a nanny or governess.

6( ) **Khy'la'd'rew:** The Vulcan equivalent of a Last Will and Testament; a document that speaks to the issue of the disbursement of property after one's death.

(7) This is also a quote from William Shakespeare's **"Othello"** which goes, _"The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief." _

(8) **Gahv**: Vulcan amethyst.

(9) **Puhku:** Vulcan amber

(10) **Adun'rak:** translated from the Vulcan this means "consort position" or "husband position"; when a male stands beside his seated his seated wife or consort, to her right side and behind her, with his hand positioned on the back of her chair, indicating his connection to her. **Author's note:** this isn't canon; I made it up.

(11) **Sarpk:** According the VLD, he was a Vulcan ka'athyra-maker from Vulcan's 5th Century. **Vulcana Regar** was one of the major cities on the planet Vulcan.

(12) **Halishau na'kilkaya:** from the Vulcan this translates as a _"demand/request for disposition"_. Since Vulcan women are given primary physical and legal custody of their children at birth, the _halishau na'kilkaya_ is usually only invoked by a male if he believes he can prove that the children are in danger if left with the mother (i.e., physical harm, emotional distress, parental alienation, etc.) **Author's note:** this is not canon.

(13) **Legend:** Trek fans will recognize this as the direct opposite of T'Pring's feelings for Spock as she expressed them in the TOS episode _"Amok Time"_. In that episode, T'Pring stated that she preferred her lover Stonn over Spock because Spock had become "something of legend" and she didn't want to be the consort of a legend. The phrase _"more Vulcan than any Vulcan"_ is a paraphrasing from the novel _"Vulcan's Glory"_ by DC Fontana, in which Spock was described as presenting himself as "more Vulcan" in order to compensate for his Human side. Since this is a "new" Universe, I figured Spock's "legendary" status could be seen as attractive by Vulcan females, and that his "more Vulcan than Vulcan" demeanor could be construed by the women as a sort of alluring "machismo".

(14) **Svai Haulan****by Stilk:** Translated from the Vulcan "Svai Haulan" means _"Floral Reflections"_, and readers of my previous story, _"The Ek'tevan Prerogative"_ will recognize the song as one Spock played for Nyota in the flashback sequence toward the end of Act Five.

(15) **Ko-Kaitra T'Spahk:** from the Vulcan this translates as _"The Sister-Group of Spock",_ or _"The Sisterhood of Spock"_

(16) **Ahmaik:** the Vulcan word for _"naming"_


	27. Chapter 27

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the beta-ed version of this chapter. My thanks, as always, to my great beta Fartrider for all of the wonderful editting and continuity alerts!

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:**

_There was a time when I would have refused to share a shuttle with Sybok,_ Sarek wrote in his personal journal over breakfast. _After his banishment from Vulcan, for attempting to recruit others to the heretical path of the _V'tosh ka'tur_, there were no shared spaces or words exchanged between us; only stony silence and the distance of miles, temperaments, and ideals._ _My pride and devotion to the Vulcan Way would allow for nothing else._ _However, things are different now. I am different in small but profound ways, and that realization sometimes astonishes me._

_Since the death of my beloved Amanda, and the destruction of my world, I have come to understand a previously hidden truth: all that I have in the Universe of any value are my children, and to be separated from them by philosophy or statute is both unfathomable and unacceptable. My sons, no doubt, will find this a remarkable revelation, since our personalities and ideologies still clash. I suppose that will always be a sticking point for us, but it is not insurmountable._

_I admit, and this is not easy for me, that I was so overcome with emotion when Sybok first arrived aboard the _Enterprise,_ I had to excuse myself from the Transporter Room lest I make a spectacle of myself. I wandered the corridors before finding myself, as I often had in the past, sitting beside Amanda - this time beside her _vre'katra_ - allowing my thoughts, confusion, and pain to pour into her._ _Her _katra_ was as much a soothing balm to my mind and spirit as she herself had been throughout our marriage. As much as I had complained that her Human emotions chafed against my Vulcan sensibilities, I know now they had also acted as a counterweight to my stoicism and control, making me a more balanced and reasonable individual._ _When Sybok was banished,_ _Amanda had cried, as only a mother could cry over a child who had lost one parent to death and the other to a clash of wills. Over this new world, her _katra_ cried again, begging me once more to welcome Sybok back openly, without an agenda, without conditions – and this time, I agreed._

_To test my new convictions, when Sybok sought me out after the dinner party, I agreed to converse with him. We spoke throughout the night about our pasts, our accomplishments, and our future goals. I am pleased he has continued studying Vulcan history and philosophy, and that he even has his own copy of the _Kir'Shara.(1)_ He told me that he meditates regularly, and keeps a journal of his dreams. For his part, he seemed pleased that I am heading the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation, and he said he could tell my relationship with Spock has improved... which it has._

_Between them, I worry less about Spock than I do about Sybok. In his own way, and in his own time, Spock seems to have found himself. He is no longer the wounded, sulky child of two worlds; he has forged a place and a future for himself among people who support, complement, and are good for him. I am most pleased by his choice of a mate, and by how he is settling affairs in the wake of the _Ek'tevan Prerogative_. I am less certain about Sybok, however._

_I find that my eldest son is still too much in his head, too abstruse, too metaphysical in his thinking. While he exists in this world, within the confines of reality, I sense he wishes to escape to another plane. He continues to search for _Sha Ka Ree_, not with the same fanaticism as before, but still fervently. That fever consumed and eventually killed his mother, and I fear it may devour him as well. It is good, therefore, that he has found his way back to his people, and to Spock, who has always supported his older brother while stabilizing him at the same time. _

_It gives me comfort to know they have one another again._

* * *

Sarek had originally planned for the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation to beam into the Cathedral just before the Council Meeting began, but Sa'aat's whole-building security measures made that nearly impossible. Sarek was also concerned about beaming the pregnant delegation members to the surface; they seemed to be growing increasingly fragile as the _pon t'keshtan_ approached. He decided, therefore, to shuttle to the planet's shuttle-port, where Sa'aat would have a security squad waiting for them, and walk to the Cathedral from there. His vessel, the _Rala_, was too small to carry the entire delegation, and although Sa'aat's vessel could hold them all, the _Haulat_ would not fly unless Sa'aat was aboard, and Sa'aat was busy with safety details on the planet. In the end, Sarek, his pilot, Gilgreni, Serran and Sybok left the _Enterprise_ in the _Rala_, while the rest of the delegation followed in the Federation shuttlecraft _Obama_. Sybok had been openly surprised by Sarek's invitation to accompany him to the surface, and Sarek had explained, "It is logical that we travel together, since I have a vessel and our destination is the same." Sybok had grinned brightly at that, and as the _Rala_ headed toward New Vulcan, he sat across the aisle from Sarek, still grinning.

"Will Spock join us on the surface, as well, Father?"

"He has made it clear that he will not set foot on New Vulcan again until the Ek'tevan Prerogative has been abolished. If we successfully address that issue during the Council Meeting, as I believe we will, he may make an appearance as part of the Federation's delegation."

"And... what of your other son? I've heard you'll soon have a son by the Lady T'Makh. Will _they_ be joining us?"

"The Lady is unable to leave her hospital bed, so I will meet her prior to entering the Cathedral."

"You haven't met her yet?"

"We have not spoken in person, no, but there are... private matters which need to be discussed, face-to-face, before the child is born."

"She is the only one giving you a child?"

"Yes. Although, I was mated to two women under the edict, T'Makh was the only one impregnated. Given my age, that is not surprising."

"Please, you're as fertile as a young -"

"Do not elucidate."

Sybok acquiesced with a nod and a smirk. "As you wish, Father. When you visit her, may I accompany you? I would like the opportunity to see how she compares to my previous step-mother."

"There is no comparison. However, on this trip, I would prefer to go alone."

"Ah, I see. You don't want to spring all of your odd family on her at once. That's probably wise." Sarek didn't respond, and Sybok pretended for a few moments to be interested in the view through the porthole on his side of the shuttle. "Will you be bonding with her?"

Sarek hardened a little inside at the question. "Are you always so preoccupied with others' personal relations?"

Sybok turned back to him. "It was a simple question, Father."

"- One which encroaches on a private matter. You did the same to Spock last night, pursuing a discussion of his relationship with Lieutenant Uhura when he repeatedly asked that the subject be dropped."

"He's my little brother, and I was teasing him; he understood that."

"I am your father. You will show me deference." _Not as changed as you believed yourself to be,_ Sarek thought to himself. _Your eldest child is back in your life, and you still spend your time arguing over trivialities. _"I -" Sarek started, making an effort to mitigate the annoyance from his tone. "I am concerned your penchant for humor and mischief may result in the other delegates not taking your opinions and requests seriously, Sybok. As the leading representative for the _V'tosh ka'tur_ at the Council Meeting, you must be able to comport yourself with some measure of decorum."

"You fear I will embarrass you."

"No. I fear you will embarrass yourself - and those who look upon you for leadership."

"Your concern lies in the belief that only stoicism and control, and a lack of emotional inference, will win the day."

"Logic dictates - "

"Logic, in its purest form, Father, has never dictated that one be emotionally deficient or detached from the subject matter. You must admit, it is often the most impassioned speech that brings an audience to its feet. I can follow logic; I can reason soundly and argue convincingly while enjoying myself in the process."

"You will be speaking to Vulcans. They may not appreciate your... enjoyment."

"Perhaps. But I will be speaking to Vulcans who are open enough, on this day, to allow me to speak; Vulcans who, only a month ago, would have refused any contact with me whatsoever. There is a profound shift in ideology taking place among our people, Father; can't you feel it?"

"I do," Sarek admitted; he even felt it within himself. It had brought him into a leadership position among the Fonn Vuhlkansu, and allowed him to speak to Sybok as a son again. "However, the traditionalist sects still outnumber the revisionists, Sybok. They hold the majority."

"For now, perhaps; but not forever."

"Diplomacy demands you learn to speak to them in their terms, in their style."

"They, in turn, will need to learn to capitulate to mine." Sybok leaned toward Sarek, his forearms on his thighs, his fingers loosely interlaced. "Clinging to the old ways, simply because they are old, is stagnating, Father. You know this; you are the one who taught it to me. You said societies must be vibrant, adaptive, and transmutational in order to survive."

"The Vulcan culture has survived for millennia by - "

"By accepting changes, first from our warrior heritage to our peaceful one, and now from our exclusionist traditions to more accepting ones. We are an adaptive species, but sometimes we require what Humans call a _'kick in the pants'_; we have to leap forward into the void with the faith we won't plummet into an abyss. We are at the tipping point, Father. Change is as imminent as it is necessary. We must adapt as a people, or stagnate and die."

"Speak like that at the Council Meeting, my son, and your sect's agenda may yet prevail."

"Thank you, Father."

"Just... steer clear of musing about shared visions and utopian mythology."

Sybok chuckled. "You know me too well."

"Truly, Sybok, there are moments when I believe I do not know you at all. I understand a mother's influence on her child, but... did I have no influence on your personality at all?"

"Of course you did. Where do you think I got my stubborn streak from, my temper?" Sybok joked.

"Is that how you perceive me? As bad-tempered and intractable?"

"When I was a child, yes."

"I see."

"You never gave an inch."

"Indecision and vacillation are the heralds of chaos. I was resolute. I attempted to teach you to be decisive and unflinching."

"I am. Be careful what you wish for, Father," Sybok smiled.

"I never wished for you to be so... recalcitrant; and I never wished that your headstrong nature would make us enemies. We have been too long on opposite sides of the table, Sybok. If we are going to endure as father and son, we must find some common ground and cling to it."

"We have common ground, Father," Sybok said. "It is you: Sarek of Vulcan."

"I do not understand."

"When I was a child, I'll admit I saw you as tyrannical, a taskmaster with an honesty that sometimes bordered on brutal. However, with time and distance, I recognized that what seems to be your outward inflexibility is a byproduct of your philosophical tenacity and your cultural pride. That is what you passed on to your sons, Father. Your tenacity, reflected in Spock, caused him to stand against the Ek'tevan Prerogative when he believed it to be unjust, and your tenacity within me caused me to pursue my own path with equal determination. Your example also made us - makes us - proud to be Vulcans, although we may not always be the kind of Vulcans you wish us to be. You've always held us to a standard of behavior, to which you yourself had been held, and at which you wholly succeeded. You always believed we could reach that standard. You demonstrated faith in our character and honor, on countless occasions, whatever our personal philosophies were; your faith sustained us throughout our childhoods, regardless of the turmoil we faced, and continues to sustain us to this day. You are our common ground, Father: your resolve, your inviolability, the model you set for us. I would not be the man I am now, if you were not always the man you have ever been; and I mean that as a compliment."

"That was... gracious," Sarek said quietly, turning to look out his porthole at the planet below in order to hide the up-swell of emotion threatening to fracture his Vulcan façade. "Thank you."

The largest of New Vulcan's three landmasses was visible: its narrow shorelines rimmed with plant life, giving way to long expanses of desert with rippling dunes, and extensive, gleaming, black obsidian-spined mountains dotted with the gaping mouths of silent but still active volcanoes. Beyond the shore, the turgid sea roiled with unceasing movement. It wasn't home, and yet it could be; an old way of life and a new beginning all rolled into one.

After a few moments, Sybok settled back, and grinning mischievously, asked, "So... are you going to bond with Lady T'Makh or not?"

* * *

"I wondered where you'd gotten off to," Nyota stood in the doorway of the Horticulture Department's main laboratory. Spock, leaning over the Vulcan plants he had cultivated, glanced at her over his shoulder.

"I will only be a moment," he said.

Nyota strode towards him, looking briefly at the Petri dishes, terrariums and plant samples scattered around the room as Spock carefully disengaged the plants from their gravity belts. An anti-grav pallet floated a few inches above the floor to his right. "You're sending them away?"

"It has always been my intention to donate them, perhaps to an arboretum or a farm on New Vulcan." Spock set one of the smaller plants onto the pallet and centered it, then set a larger plant next to it. "Now, they will serve another purpose. I have agreed to relinquish them to the Triumvirate to be presented as a _Tan Na'Sular_ (2) at the start of the Council Meeting, a symbol of transplantation, and the ability of Vulcans to reestablish themselves on a new world and survive and thrive there."

"Ooo, I like that idea," Nyota said, certain it had been, at least in part, Spock's own. She helped him hoist the larger _sash-savas_ plant onto the pallet. "They'll also act as living reminders to your children of their father's nurturing love and best wishes for his people."

Spock gave her a long gaze before saying somewhat teasingly, "Vulcan children would never ascribe such an emotional interpretation to scrub brush."

"Yours will," Nyota teased back, leaning against him, "I'll see to it."

* * *

Tasmeen sat on the floor in Spock's quarters in front of Pa'shu, holding G'by on her lap. The cub had gained nearly seven-and-a-half kilograms in his first week of life. (3) His eyes were still shut, and it would be another week before they opened; and his teeth hadn't started coming in yet. The molars and incisors would erupt in another seven to ten days, and the saber teeth would bud about ten days after that, eventually reaching their full length of over six inches. Right now, though, G'by and Ta'an were roly-poly mounds of toothless fur that spent most of their waking hours nursing and rolling around Pa'shu's mattress, and slept more than two-thirds of their days away.

Tasmeen picked G'by up, his snout to her nose and said, "Nam-tor siyah ha-kel, G'by. Dungi-nam-tor sarlahik ha-tor k'nash-veh heh uzh sa-mekh Sarek fi ek'tra tu. Nam-torik kraiskal svi'thif'we weht-fam. Dungi-prah gla-tor yeht yel tu eh olau keth sov dungi-nam-tor. Uf vaksurik ish-veh ha?" _(We are almost home, G'by. You'll be coming to live with me and new-father Sarek on the planet. No more being confined in a cabin. You'll get to see the real sun, and feel the real air. How beautiful will that be?)_

In response, G'by's mouth gaped open in a huge yawn.

* * *

T'Makh was in accouchement in New Vulcan's Medical Facility, which was adjacent to the Cathedral, making it simple for Sarek to check in with Sa'aat and the rest of the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation, before he took the short walk across the quad to visit her. He went alone... or so he believed. For his protection, silent and unseen, one of Sa'aat's security guards was always a few meters away.

Sarek found T'Makh half-sitting, half-lying on her blankets, looking much as he had expected: matriarchal; her hair was just starting to turn silvery, her body thin and strong like a _k'ai_ (4), punctuated by a pregnant belly. She was dressed in a layered, full-length terra cotta colored silk gown, and less formally, wore her hair down around her shoulders. Her feet were bare. It was unusual for a Vulcan woman to present herself so casually. Not only did her appearance make her look uncharacteristically vulnerable, it reminded Sarek of Amanda on their wedding night. She had looked thus, half-dressed half-undone, waiting, silently ripe, tender yet expectant, and quietly eager for him.

T'Makh's bed was cluttered with gewgaws and personal items: embroidered pillows, scrolls and books, a bowl with a small, extinguished candle - it's scent, akin to fresh peaches, still lingered over the bed - digital images of loved ones, a long carved _kolchak_, jewelry, and a bowl filled with sweets. (5) It wasn't unusual for women to exhibit _nesting behavior_ prior to giving birth; he had simply not seen it played out in this form or to this degree before. He attributed the untidiness to the fact that T'Makh, unable to leave her bed, was making her nest right there, all around her.

"I believe I have you to thank for the private room," she said after they exchanged traditional greetings. Despite her age, her voice had a youthful ring to it, and her dark eyes glistened with her otherwise unexpressed emotion. Her gratitude was real, not just a spoken pleasantry.

Sarek drew a chair to her bedside and sat. "I had some little influence. How are you progressing?"

"Adequately. I am bored, and desire to be free of this place; yet, until the Council Meeting concludes, and more permanent arrangements can be made, I accept my present situation."

"Is your pregnancy uncomfortable?"

"Yes," she placed a hand on the side of her belly, "but not overwhelmingly so; I have been able to control most of the pain. Thank you for your willingness to meet with me. The circumstances which bring us together are somewhat awkward."

"Many on New Vulcan face similar difficulties."

"Yes. The edict was an equalizer of sorts in that regard. Your son, Spock, was most vocal in his disapproval of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, and was subjected to it against his will. His lot must be more difficult than most, I presume. How does he fair?"

"Well. Returning to New Vulcan has demanded several onerous journeys of him, but he has prevailed intact. Thank you for your inquiry."

"Your family is a resilient one."

"So it would seem."

"Did the edict bring him any offspring?"

"Several, and thus far all have found their place within his sphere. He is determined to accept them, despite the circumstances of their conception... as I accept this child of yours."

"_Despite the circumstances of its conception_."

"Our mating was not as I might have wished it to be."

"Implied force does change perception, does it not?"

"Indeed, but it is not a perception which cannot be overcome, Lady T'Makh." Sarek's gaze found her abdomen and he resisted the temptation to touch it, to feel for the child. "The child is a male, correct?"

"Yes. Another son to add to your sons..."

"And my daughter - Tasmeen, an adopted child. She lost her family in The Genocide," Sarek explained, before adding, "I fear I have also come into the possession of a rather large family of sehlats: a female and two cubs."

"Oh my. Your house is full."

"Very. But not so full as to prohibit the inclusion of a select few others."

"You speak of me and our son?"

"Yes."

"You would make a place for us with you, in your household, in your family..."

"Yes."

"Is this merely a kind gesture, or something more genuine?"

"My sons will confirm for you, madam, that I do not make empty gestures."

"I see." T'Makh absently found the end of a hank of her hair and began rolling it between her fingertips as she thought for a moment. "Am I not too old for your taste?"

"You are near my own age. If you are too old, then so am I."

"We barely know each other."

"Vulcans bonded as children under the old laws sometimes knew even less about one another than we do, and yet they persevered. We have the added advantage of being able to read one another's histories."

T'Makh returned her full attention to him. "You have researched me?" she asked, her fingers still wrapped around her hair as though it somehow anchored her, kept her from being carried away by the context of their conversation.

"Yes... as you have researched me and my family."

"I cannot deny that. We knew little of each other before the arena," T'Makh said. "I have studied you since then, and I admire your sense of duty and your innate practicality. I also find it agreeable that you are a man of intelligence and ability, and highly respected among our people. Your current political leanings are somewhat troublesome, however."

"You are a Traditionalist?"

"Yes."

"Are you entrenched, inflexible?"

"Not entirely, no. Logic prohibits one from becoming wholly obdurate. One must always remain open to convincing arguments and the inclusion of new data."

"Then there is hope for me."

The set of T'Makh's shoulders softened, as though she was relaxing, or perhaps even smiling inwardly. She rubbed the side of her belly and sighed, "What will your sons think of me?"

"They will accept whomever I choose."

"And Spock? He lost his mother to The Genocide. Will it not be difficult for him to- "

"His mother was not lost," Sarek admitted. When T'Makh tilted her head in question, he explained, "Her _katra_ survives."

"Oh, how fortunate," she said, although her tone suggested she wasn't entirely pleased with the information. She looked at her body, her bare feet, the blankets and trinkets. "If you take up residence on New Vulcan, will her _vre'katra _reside with you?"

"A final decision has yet to be made. I had initially desired to keep the _vre'katra_, but... I believe Spock would prefer it remain with him. He and his mother were extraordinarily close. She was always a source of comfort for him, and may continue to be so in her present form."

"I see." T'Makh lifted her eyes to Sarek again. "Then you consider yourself free to marry."

"Yes."

"And you wish to marry me."

"Yes."

"I must admit, Ambassador, this is one of the oddest proposals I have ever received."

"Have you received many?"

"When I was younger, I was much sought after. Once, four suitors fought the _kal'i'fee_ for me."(6) Sarek bowed his head slightly. That kind of information wasn't kept in the standard records; and it was impressive, demonstrating how desirable T'Makh was, and how formidable and powerful her former husband, who had fought three others to the death to win her hand, must have been. She must have seen some hint of that strength in Sarek, or she would not have considered him as a prospective mate.

"My proclamation of _koon-ut so'lik_ may not be as dramatic or inspiring as you are used to, madam; however, in the end, the proposal is less important than the response. Dungau-zek tuffen hushani nash-veh ha?" _(Shall I order the wedding cake?)_

"Ha," T'Makh extended the ozh'esta to him. _(Yes.) _

Sarek pressed the tips of his fingers to hers, closing his eyes. After a few seconds he uttered, "Kashek t'etek - veh heh tereuhr - I'estuhlik heh kwon-sum estuhlik - Lu k'wuhli worla k'wuhli." _(Our minds, one and together... Touching now, and always touching... When apart, never apart...)_

T'Makh, her eyes closed as well, murmured, "Nam-tor veh etek." _(We are one.)_

* * *

"I need a decision from you," T'Yelas said as Sa'aat activated the monitors that would give him a full-circle view of everything inside and outside the Formal Hall of the Cathedral. T'Lale stood nearby, but didn't intrude on his personal space as her sister did.

Sa'aat, dressed in his full uniform, his belt now holstering a phaser pistol as well as his lipitah, a Vulcan communicator and a microcorder, gave the women a cursory, rather dismissive glance and said, "I was under the impression that I had made myself understood on the matter." He activated a screen and adjusted its clarity before continuing, "I will provide for the children of my blood, give them my name and an inheritance, and I will assist in their upbringing, schooling, and rituals. However, I have no intention of bonding with either of you." Sa'aat looked directly at T'Yelas, "Is that clear enough?"

"How can you be so indifferent? So cruel?" T'Yelas almost pouted.

"The truth is never cruel, madam. It simply is."

"You would cast us aside?"

"No. I have, and will continue, to make a distinct space for you within my life and sphere, allowing you the choice of whether or not you will occupy that space."

"A position of half-wife; is that what you offer? A name without attachments?"

"It is all I can offer you."

"We are powerful women, Sa'aat. A full bonding with us would - "

"- Would be a sham, every vow a lie," Sa'aat interrupted. He stepped away from the monitors and his face took on a less stern aspect as he added softly, "I will not dishonor myself - or you - by pretending otherwise."

"But we...we love you," T'Lale said, her admission of emotion not easy for a Vulcan. "We chose you when we could have chosen anyone else."

Sa'aat nodded. "I know."

"You feel nothing for us?"

"Quite the contrary. I have a great deal of admiration for you as the mothers of my children, and a great deal of pride in you as progenitors of the Vulcan race. Whatever affection I have for you is limited to that, however. I know you feel more, but, madam, I do not. I have been honest with you throughout our interactions, have I not? I am sa-ka-ashausu. I cannot be otherwise, not even for those who love me, no matter how much they love me."

T'Lale looked away, defeated, but T'Yelas, her tone biting, countered by saying, "Spock will never be yours, you know."

Sa'aat's features went hard again. "That was an unnecessary blow."

"Did it cause you pain? Good. I meant it to sting. We may not get what we want, but neither will you. It seems fate has made fools of us all."

"You may deem me a fool, madam, but I do not see you thus." He looked at T'Lale. "I have nothing but respect for you, and I apologize if, in the course of these unfortunate affairs, you have been injured by anything I have said or done."

"I feel no injury," T'Lale admitted, calm, resolved. "You have, as you said, never been anything but honest with us. I do admit to some sense of loss, however. I believe it may have been desperation that caused us to blindly adhere to the first powerful male we saw after the loss of our family and former lives on Vulcan. We saw you as an anchoring strength, a solidity onto which we could fix ourselves in the tumultuous aftermath of The Genocide... and we clung too tightly, became more attached to you than prudence would have dictated. So, now, as the tide ebbs and the world settles again, I will accept whatever niche you may be able to make for me within your heart and spirit, but... the acceptance will always be painted with the regret our connection cannot be more than what it is."

"I understand such a disposition, madam. As your sister is obviously aware, I have lived with something similar for most of my adult life." Sa'aat looked from T'Lale to T'Yelas. "Now, do you have any other questions for me, or may I return to my work?"

T'Yelas turned abruptly and walked away. T'Lale lingered for a few moments more, her face a visible struggle between emotion and control before she said, "Our daughter..."

"Yes."

"With your permission, I would like to name her Tuula."

On Vulcan the _tuula_ shrub had crimson leaves that turned mottled pink when the weather cooled. "It is an unusual name, but one reminiscent of our home-world," he said. "I have no objection to it."

"Thank you." T'Lale turned to leave, but looked back at him and lifted her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Sa'aat."

He returned the gesture. "Peace and long life."

* * *

On each Starfleet vessel in orbit around New Vulcan, and on all the Federation's planets, space stations and colonies, through direct feeds and via jumper-nodes, images of the Cathedral on New Vulcan started airing at eleven-hundred hours. Stationary cameras provided still shots and streaming video of the structure's exterior, the gathering crowds, the arrival of the delegates, and the visible security forces paroling the city.

On the bridge of the _Enterprise,_ a patchwork of pictures filled the main view screen. One swatch identified individuals on the ground; another displayed images of the cathedral, diagramming it, piece-by-piece, to show how it was engineered; another showed overhead shots of the building and its neighbors with an overlay of infrared and ultraviolet imaging. Other pictures showed the entire city from the atmosphere, revealed the entire planet from four different viewpoints, and displayed and identified all of the ships and satellites in orbit. Monitors on all four ships duplicated the views, and small clusters of crewmembers not otherwise engaged in their duties, gathered around them to watch the proceedings.

Spock, seated in the command chair, watched as everything on the screen moved, and voices layered over voices; his Vulcan brain took in the imagery quicker and with more immediate comprehension than his Human crewmates. Looking at the overview of Svitan'Kahr, he was struck by how small and isolated the city looked on the planet's surface; and the crowd in the Cathedral's courtyard, a blur of undulating movement representative of the last remaining Vulcans in existence, seemed rather thin and very exposed there. He found himself wishing, for a moment, the medical frigates that had accompanied the _Enterprise_ to the planet had more than just a marginal array of defensive weaponry.

Pictures from inside the Cathedral flickered onto the screen, pushing the exterior images to the edges of the monitors. Delegates from the various Sects filtered in and started taking up their positions among the first six rows of white chairs around the center floor. The gallery chairs remained as they had been: charcoal grey.

Spock noticed, before anyone else, when Captain Kirk, looking somewhat uncomfortable in his dress uniform, entered the chamber behind Ambassador McCormick and the dozen officers and assistants from the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs, who made up the Federation's delegation. The captain wasn't actually part of the delegation, he, along with Doctor McCoy, Mister Scott, and the captains of the medical frigates, was acting as a sort of visual support team backing the delegates. Kirk tugged at the high-collar of his dress coat making a face, but replaced it with a warm smile and an unsteady ta'al (7) - the split-fingered formation was sometimes difficult for him to achieve - when he was formally introduced to the Triumvirate, who sat on swiveling chairs on the central floor space inside the great room. As he made his way through the crowd, his open, gregarious nature seemed to draw even the most wizened Traditionalists to him like moths to light. At one point, there were no less than fourteen Vulcan women clustered around him, each one colorful and elegant-looking in their formalwear.

"There's your father, Mister Spock," Ensign Chekhov announced unnecessarily; Spock was already aware of Sarek's arrival in the hall.

Nyota, the transmission bud still in her right ear, left her station and stopped beside the command chair in order to get a better look at the view screen. As she watched, Sarek and his group took up a central position among the cordoned sections.

Spock explained, "Notice the position is nearest to one of the wider aisles in the middle of the room with the security station to their extreme rear; strategically, it is one of the safest spots within the Chamber. In an emergency, it provides the delegation the shortest, quickest escape route from the room. It also allows my father an unobstructed view of the other lead delegates."

"You make it sound like he's gearing up for battle rather than a Council Meeting."

"Every meeting among diplomats is a battle, Lieutenant. Strategy is everything: where one places oneself, how one presents oneself, the verbiage used. Everything is planned to give oneself an advantage. You will note, for example, that Sarek seated himself and his people before the other delegations took their chairs. This was deliberate. It establishes his claim over that part of the hall. Now the other delegates will position themselves in direct relationship to him. The Traditionalist groups will move to the opposite side of the Chamber, to distance themselves from him, and the Revisionists groups will vie for seats closest to him. Those Sects without any clear leanings will fill in the sections between these two groups." Nyota and the others watched as the leaders of each group looked to where Sarek was seated before seeking chairs for themselves, just as Spock had predicted. Even the Federation's delegation followed Sarek's unspoken design, positioning themselves directly at the halfway point between the Traditionalists and the Revisionists on the floor.

"Amazing," Nyota muttered.

When Sybok and the _V'tosh ka'tur_ contingency arrived in the room, they took the section directly to Sarek's right. Although the other Vulcans were quiet, sharing formal greetings and murmuring to one another, Sybok's group was louder, more demonstrative. Bear hugs went all around, and at one point, they all broke out into boisterous laughter. The rest of the room went silent as the other Vulcans stopped to locate the source of the commotion. When the murmuring resumed, Sybok looked around the room and located one of the five Federation journalists filming the proceedings through head-mounted recording gear. He walked up to her, waving and grinning broadly at the camera, and said into the lens, "Vesht fun-tor ha'kel nam-tor etwel'uh! Tonk'peh Uzh T'Kashi'uh! Dif-tor heh smusma'uh!" _(We are returned home! Hello, New Vulcan! Live long and prosper!)_

Even though most of the bridge crew had no idea what Sybok had just said, they couldn't help but chuckle at the display. Sybok's enthusiasm and joy were contagious.

As Sybok returned to where his people were applauding him noisily, the journalist remarked into her headset, "And that was the very animated and ever-charming Delegate Sybok of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ Vulcans. Banned from their former planet, his group seeks to be included in the New Vulcan government. Before any discussion on other issues can proceed, the banishment of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ has to be vacated by a majority vote, and their citizenship reinstated. If they're denied their petition, they'll be removed from the hall and the Council Meeting will proceed without them. That the _V'tosh ka'tur_ have even been allowed to submit a petition to the Triumvirate, however, seems to bode well for them. A more exclusionist governmental body would never have allowed that... There is staunch opposition to the Sect, but the fact Sybok is being included in these proceedings, is a big step forward toward Vulcan reunification."

"Indeed," said Spock. "The term _ever-charming_ seems somewhat inappropriate, however."

Nyota smiled. "What Sect is filing in beside Sybok's?"

"The _Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas_."

"Followers of the Holy Guardian Spirits," Nyota translated.

"Yes. The Sect is comprised primarily of mystics and their apprentices."

Nyota noticed a pregnant member of the delegation being helped down the steps and into her seat. "She's not wearing a MAGGIe; did we overlook some of the women down there?"

"No, Lieutenant. Doctor McCoy and the others were quite thorough. Members of the _Vai Giddas_ will not seek or accept outside medical aid. They believe pain and illness are battles to be overcome by the spirit, or lost to agony and death."

"Wow, that's severe."

"Yes. Surviving into old age is considered a grand feat for their members; the Elders in the Sect are, therefore, highly revered." Spock frowned slightly. "I find it odd, however, for them to align themselves so closely with the _V'tosh ka'tur_. One would think a more centrist stance would better benefit their inclusion in the Council."

"Maybe they shared a vision or something," Lieutenant Sulu said from his station.

"That is very possible."

Sulu turned to him in his chair, and admitted, "I was sort of joking, Mister Spock."

"I was not. It is quite possible the _V'tosh ka'tur_ and the _Vai Giddas_ have had a shared experience through the _k'war'ma'khon_."

"Now see, that just creeps me out." Spock looked at him, puzzled, and the younger man explained, "I don't know, sir, the whole Vulcan mysticism thing makes me uncomfortable. I've never really understood it: _katras_ and _vre'katras_, shared dreams, mind melds, and the, how do you say it? _The 'caramel corn'_?"

"_K'war'ma'khon_..." Spock corrected him. "You were raised in the Christian tradition, were you not, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir. So?"

"Immortal souls, guardian angels and an overseeing Holy Spirit are part of that belief system; therefore, you are not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of external, unseen forces having an influence on one's life."

"Yeah, but thinking about souls in the abstract, sir, and actually sitting face-to-face with one in a jar are two different things. I mean, I like the notion of having a guardian angel looking over my shoulder, but if I actually saw one, I'd probably freak out."

* * *

Ambassador McCormick took the front seat in her section at the small table, and the rest of her team filed into the white chairs behind her, each with PADDs and Universal Translators ready. Captain Kirk, Scotty, and Doctor McCoy slid into the grey gallery chairs on the aisle immediately behind the delegation, and watched the room settle down around them as the Triumvirate readied themselves for the opening benediction.

The plants Spock had so carefully nurtured aboard the _Enterprise_ were brought forth, and Kirk felt a slight swell of pride looking at them. Members of the _Vai Giddas_ blessed the plants, and then they were offered as a gift to the Vulcan people. Although most Vulcans, who were by nature undemonstrative, withheld their emotional response to the gift, members of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ and Fonn Vuhlkansu, immediately started clapping. The Federation's delegation followed suit, and eventually the applause circled the entire chamber.

"That's one for Spock," Kirk whispered in McCoy's ear, as the clapping continued for several more seconds.

The doctor grinned and nodded. "Now, if they'd just get rid of that stupid Ek'tevan Prerogative, he'll be set."

* * *

Seated once more at her Communications console, Nyota frowned. "Commander."

When she didn't elaborate, Spock turned in the command chair to face her. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I'm - I'm picking up an odd signal, sir, among the ship-to-shore sub-space transmissions; a peculiar pattern. I don't understand it, but... it's obviously not part of the natural background noise. It sounds almost automated. It might be nothing, but -"

Nyota was unsurpassed among her graduating class in her ability to locate and translate anomalous transmissions. If an errant signal had caught her attention and worried her, Spock could be assured her concern wasn't frivolous or misdirected. "Let me hear it," he said. She tapped a command into the panel at the top of her station, and broadcast the signal over the bridge's main audio system: a faint, intermittent, but repeating squeak. Spock listened to it for a few seconds. "It sounds like a homing beacon or a targeting signal."

"That was my first impression, too, sir."

"Origin?"

"It's coming from beneath the Cathedral, but I'm having trouble triangulating its exact location. I'm not sure if it's because of the security grid around the planet or if there's something jamming the signal, but..."

"Keep trying, Lieutenant." Spock pressed a key on the arm of the command chair and said, "_Enterprise_ to Fik-Zhel-Lan Sa'aat, Vulcan security."

Sa'aat's image emerged in a corner of the main view screen. He was standing at a control podium near the main entrance to the Formal Chamber with Sionak at his left shoulder, and delegates and guests streaming past him. He held a Vulcan communicator near his mouth with one hand, while he continued to tap commands into the console. He said quietly, "Sa'aat la. Stariben." _(Sa'aat here. Speak.)_

"Spock here. We are picking up a recurring signal emanating from below the Cathedral. Is it a component of your security network?"

"Unknown. Forward the signal to my station."

"Transferring now," Spock gestured to Nyota, and she forwarded the signal to Sa'aat.

Sa'aat listened to it, and then said, "Curious. It is not one of ours. It is not of Federation origin?"

"No. Nor does it carry the trademark features of Ionian or Denobulan transmission signals."

"Do you have a fix on it?"

"We are having difficulty pinpointing its location, but it does appear to be coming from beneath the structure."

"I will investigate," Sa'aat said, and his image left the main view screen.

"Keep monitoring the signal, Lieutenant," Spock said to Nyota.

"Aye, sir."

Spock keyed a series of commands into the arm of the command chair, clearing the layers of images from the main viewer, except the live-video feeds from inside the Cathedral itself. He used the system's facial recognition programming to locate Sa'aat among the crowd of Vulcans, and fingered the control on the chair, commanding the feed to follow Sa'aat's image as he moved through the building. Leaving Sionak at the station by the door, Sa'aat moved down the main corridor, toward the rear of the Cathedral, glancing at his small microcorder periodically to trace the errant signal beneath him. He stopped at what looked like a solid wall, and then stepped into it.

"Commander Spock!" Ensign Chekhov exclaimed. "He... he vanished!"

"Hardly, Ensign. There are camouflaged passages throughout the structure."

"Like secret doors and tunnels?" Sulu asked.

"Precisely. Some are available to everyone, while only the architects and a select few know of others. Most Vulcan buildings have them, especially ones maintained by the government."

"Neat!"

"Ensign, tie into Sa'aat's bio-signature and maintain a link in case we lose visual contact completely."

"Aye, Commander." In a small pop-up panel in the upper corner of the view screen, Sa'aat's bio-signature appeared alongside a readout giving his exact coordinates. The coordinates changed to reflect his position. "Got him."

Through the video feeds, Sa'aat became visible again, stepping out from a shadow in one corridor and vanishing into another. In another frame, he walked down the center of a short hall before he disappeared again around a corner and into a large ornate column. Inside the column was a spiral stairwell leading into the bowels of the Cathedral.

* * *

A large octagonal shaped fixture slowly descended from the Chamber's ceiling, and on each face was displayed a bulleted list of topics in Golic Vulcan.

"What we're seeing here," one of the male journalists on the floor explained to the viewers, "is a compilation of the charters of the various sects seated at this Council Meeting. Each charter has been broken out by titles and subtopics, and rearranged in a point-list that will act as an agenda for this meeting. As you can see, references to the controversial Ek'tevan Prerogative and the _V'tosh ka'tur_ are among the top priorities on the list. "Number One on the agenda, though, is the affirming vote for the Vulcan's first Fik-Zhel-Lan, the equivalent of a Commander in Chief. That appointment has gone to Sa'aat, son of Khar-Lan Sha'ar of Vulcan. Sa'aat, a former Khar-Lan himself and an expert in _k'a'sum'I_, was appointed to the position by the sitting Triumvirate, a body that will step aside once the New Vulcan Council is established. The votes are silently coming in now, and... as you can see from the displays, there are no opposing votes. The appointment is unanimously affirmed. Congratulations to Fik-Zhel-Lan Sa'aat! Let's hope the rest of the agenda is resolved this easily..."

Sa'aat padded silently down the winding staircase, letting his microcorder scan the areas around him. He paused before opening the door at the landing that would lead him into an adjacent corridor. He clipped the recorder to his belt, and then activated his communicator. "_Enterprise_," he said quietly.

"Spock here."

"My microcorder is unable to pinpoint the source of the errant signal."

"Our scans have been equally unproductive. We assume there is an overlying jamming frequency or other interference, but are unable to identify the cause."

Sa'aat thought for a moment, before saying, "Scan the area for kelbonite."

* * *

Spock left the command chair and went to his Science Station. Leaning over the console, he said, "Scanning." After a few seconds, he straightened, and faced Sa'aat's image. "There is a small, unnatural concentration of that mineral three-point-six-seven meters below and eleven-point-five-eight meters to the left of your present location.(8) How did you know?"

"I suspected," Sa'aat replied. "She used kelbonite to disguise her lava tube bunker, and we believe it was also used on the _Marom'es_ to trick us into thinking she was aboard that vessel when it left New Vulcan."

"I was not aware any Vulcan ship had left the planet," Spock said, as he returned to the command chair.

"You were not looking for one; my people were," Sa'aat explained.

"And how can you be certain she was not aboard?"

"The _Marom'es _was pursued by one of our private shuttles, the _Wan-Wein_. Data transmissions received from the _Wan-Wein_ prior to its destruction indicated there was no one aboard the _Marom'es_; the vessel was on auto-pilot."

"A decoy."

"Yes."

Spock sat down. "And how was the _Wan-Wein_ destroyed?"

"It was spotted chasing the _Marom'es_ along the inner edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. Neither vessel survived their encounter with a warbird there."

Spock's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Vulcan ships trespassing into Romulan territory could be viewed as an act of war, Sa'aat."

"The trespass was explained as a small, private matter that had no impact whatsoever on Vulcan-Romulan relations, and was in no way sanctioned by Vulcan leadership."

"You lied?"

"No."

"But you authorized the trespass, did you not?"

"I did, but my office operates completely separate from the Triumvirate and the rest of the governing body of New Vulcan, so..."

"You obfuscated..."

"Indeed."

"I would say _'well done'_, but I do not wish to encourage you in any further such clandestine activities."

"You were always the more plainspoken and straightforward between us, Spock."

"Then allow me to speak plainly when I say, if she lured you with a false reading before, she may be doing so again; and by following the kelbonite, you may be walking directly into a trap. On the other hand, if it is she in the catacombs below the Cathedral, then her presence is a threat to you and everyone else within the structure. She would not be there unless she meant to disrupt the proceedings and felt she had the full ability to do so. I will beam down to your location and - "

"No."

"You cannot face her alone, Sa'aat."

"Daq Homlogh qIp loD tlhej taj tlhej ta' latlh QIH naQ mangghom."

Spock glanced at Nyota for a translation. "It's a Klingon aphorism: _In close quarters, a single man with a knife can do more damage than an entire army_."

"The Humans also have a saying," Spock informed Sa'aat. "_Two heads are better than one_. Between us, she can be confined and apprehended. I am beaming to the surface."

Sa'aat turned directly toward the video node broadcasting his image, and said, "_Haulat_, vitorau sha'es patoraya dah-leh shehkuh t'Sa'aat." (Haulat_, activate the Sa'aat security protocol twenty-six._)

The video feed filled with static and winked out. The image of New Vulcan and the ships in orbit around it replaced all the images of the city and the Cathedral on the view screen.

"Damn it," Nyota tossed her ear bud down onto the console in front of her, "I've lost him, Commander."

"Me too," Ensign Chekhov confirmed.

"Mister Sulu?" Spock asked.

"Some kind of forcefield has just been activated, Mister Spock. It's blocking all communications and transportability. He's shut us out, sir."

* * *

(1) **Kir'Shara:** a small obelisk which contained all of the original writings of Surak.

(2) **Tan Na'Sular:** from the Vulcan this translates as _"Gift for the People"_

(3) **7.5 kilograms** is equal to about 15-16 pounds.

(4) **K'ai**: a Vulcan "willow tree".

(5) **Kolchak:** the Vulcan word for "flute"... and yes, I know, it's the same as in _"Kolchak: The Night Stalker"_. Hah!

(6) **Kal'i'fee:** the word in Vulcan means "_challenge_"; a part of the Vulcan mating ritual. If the female rejects the mate arranged for her by her parents, during the marriage ceremony she can invoke the _kal'i'fee_, choose her own champion, and set him against her intended in a fight to the death. Whomever wins the battle, wins the hand of the woman in marriage. In T'Makh's case, four men wanted her, and so she had them all fight one another until there was only one left.

(7) **Ta'al:** the split-fingered Vulcan hand salute; also spelled _"ta'a"_ (And thank you to my beta Farstrider for this.)

(8) **3.67 meters** is about 12 feet, and **11.58 meters** is about 38 feet. The kelbonite deposit is 12 feet below Sa'aat and about 38 feet to the left of his current position in the column.


	28. Chapter 28

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the beta'ed version of this chapter, and it contains just a few additions - with many, many thanks to FarStrider!

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

"The forcefield is localized to an area around the city, Mister Spock," said Ensign Chekov from his station. "We can get readings from outside of Svitan'Kahr, but where the field stands, scanners, communicators, transporters – nothing can get in, or out, sir."

"Calculate the parameters and energy signature of the forcefield, Ensign. If its range is indeed limited, we may be able to get a security team to the surface outside of it, and work our way into the city from that point."

"Aye, sir."

"Mister Sulu, find a way for me to tap a hole in that grid."

"Aye, Commander."

"Lieutenant Uhura, continue your attempts to reestablish contact with our people on the planet."

"I'm already on it, sir," Nyota assured him.

* * *

Kirk had never heard so much polite-sounding bigotry in his life. As the debate surrounding the _V'tosh ka'tur_ continued, objections to them included inferences to their supposed inability to maintain long-term relationships or procreate wisely, fears they would entice schoolchildren to follow their beliefs, and that they would proselytize sedition and immorality among the general populace. Opposition couched in pretty, formal verbiage, lending it the air of wisdom when, it was in fact baseless – a point Sybok made repeatedly as he answered the charges against his people.

"The credibility of Delegate Serrel's opinions regarding the _V'tosh ka'tur_ is undermined by his admission that he has not fully researched our philosophies. He has not included texts and treatises which could have afforded more balance to his opinions, nor has he provided a basis by which you might compare our social, spiritual, or political influence upon society to the influence of groups such as the _Vai Giddas, _or the_ Shakhu,_ or even the general followers of T'Mor or Jarok," Sybok said from the small table in front of his delegation.(1) "As for procreation, well... what can I say? There is no evidence to support the contention that we of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ are either unduly promiscuous or unduly celibate. We were not called upon to participate during the enactment of the Ek'tevan Prerogative... and considering the new public outrage voiced over that particular edict, it may be well that we never succumbed to it.

"There is no proof our private beliefs and interpretations of the words of Surak in any way constitute a form of 'public immorality'. Delegate Serrel may view us as immoral, and such is his right – within the confines of his house and sect. It is the duty of the state, however, to treat all Vulcan citizens equally, not to use its power to subject the citizenry to a mandated moral code. Disapproval of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ alone cannot be used as a basis for enacting legislation that is, on its face, biased and exclusionary. Furthermore, people of New Vulcan, I submit to you that no factual evidence supports Serrel's contention that any member of the _V'tosh ka'tur_, including myself, has ever tried to convince or coerce anyone into taking seditious actions against the Vulcan state. I can only assume, therefore, that Serrel is either woefully misinformed, is being deliberately misleading, or is, as the Humans might put it, _speaking out of his rectum_." (2)

Although most Vulcans controlled their reactions to that remark, Sarek closed his eyes and shuddered visibly, while several Humans stifled chuckles with coughs or behind their hands. Stenn, seated between T'Lale and T'Yelas on the chamber floor, cocked a wizened eyebrow at Sybok before turning to Serrel and asking for evidence to back his claims against the _V'tosh ka'tur_. Serrel bypassed the requests for proof with more eloquent, empty language, and then asserted that the state had nothing to gain by reinstating citizenship to the _V'tosh ka'tur_. Sybok countered that if citizenship for those in his sect was reinstated, the Vulcan state would, in fact, gain not only the political and philosophical balance provided by theirpresence in legislative matters, but would also gain the financial and genetic benefits they could provide.

This verbal back-and-forth seemed to go on interminably. Kirk, more interested in the final vote than he was in the discussion itself, craned his neck to see if he recognized anyone else in the chamber. He had already met the entire Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation, and he was able to pick out Elder Sepek from the Ip-sut Monastery. The Elder had requested permission for his ship, the _Sov-Masu-Thek,_ to enter orbit around New Vulcan; Lieutenant Uhura had described him as _a cloistered and distinguished Kolinahru_. The fact that Sepek and his group of bald-headed delegates had aligned themselves with the _Vai Giddas_, didn't really surprise Kirk, since he figured they shared similar spiritual beliefs.

It took him a moment to identify the two familiar young women slipping into gallery chairs directly behind Sarek's group as the younger of Spock's plak-tau women: Karil and V'Rha'lahn. After they settled into their seats, Karil divided her attention between the speakers and Sarek, but V'Rha'lahn's eyes swept over the entire room several times. Kirk gave her a covert wave when she spotted him, and she gave him a slight head bow in return.

"How can someone so young, look so severe?" McCoy murmured.

"What –?" Kirk asked him in a whisper.

"Nothing..."

Overhead, the octagonal view screen suddenly flickered and went black for a moment, and then filled in with the flowing details of the agenda once more. The Vulcans seemed only mildly fazed by the interruption in the feed, and the meeting continued unabated. Kirk, however, noticed a nearby journalist tap his headset before removing it – carefully, as not to muss his expertly coiffed blond hair – to look it over. The man's name badge, worn over the FNS (3) logo embroidered on the front of his fitted jacket, identified him as Chief Correspondent Gavin Fowler. Kirk leaned forward, and speaking softly so as not to disturb the others around him, asked, "Is there a problem?"

"I think I've lost the link to my external sources," Fowler said without looking at the captain. He jostled the headset and muttered, "The unit seems to be working properly, everything's being recorded, and I'm transmitting, but... I don't know if the signal's going anywhere. And I can't raise my editor." He throttled the device. "Stupid piece of shi-"

"What do you mean you can't raise your editor?"

"I was talking to my editor and then, _phfiitt_, I wasn't," the man looked up, and his electric blue eyes widened. "Hey, you're Captain Kirk, aren't you? Captain of the _Enterprise_!" his voice was quiet despite his enthusiasm. "My editor would kiss me if I could get an interview with you!"

"How great for you. Does your equipment hose up often?"

"What? Uh. No. Never. The JJ-2009 is the best on the market," Fowler said distractedly. "Commander Spock, Ambassador Sarek's son, is your First Officer, right? He's the one who stood up against the Ek'tevan Prerogative. This must be pretty exciting for him, huh?"

"Yeah, he's thrilled," Kirk said, looking around to see if the other journalists were having similar problems. He only saw the woman covering the _V'tosh ka'tur, _but she was frowning, and tapping her headset as well. He pulled out his communicator, opened it, and said softly, "Kirk to _Enterprise_." No response. He twisted the tiny frequency knob. "Kirk to _Enterprise_. Come in, _Enterprise_."

"What's going on?" Dr. McCoy whispered, leaning over in his seat.

"We've been cut off."

"What do you mean we've been cut off?"

"Try your communicator."

Scowling, McCoy flipped his communicator open. "McCoy to _Enterprise_."

"Nothing, right? It's like they're not there."

"They have to be there," the doctor grumbled. "There must be something wrong with the equipment."

"Are we cut off?" the journalist asked. "Who would cut us off?"

"Here," Scotty reached past the captain to Fowler. "Let's have a look at that. Maybe they reset the cue variance or the frequency to accommodate something in the planet's security grid."

As the journalist handed his headpiece to Scotty, Kirk asked McCoy, "Do you have your medical tricorder with you?"

"Never leave home without it."

"See if you can get any readings, both inside and outside the Cathedral."

McCoy lifted his tricorder and scanned the area.

Ambassador McCormick swiveled in her seat and glared at them, putting a finger to her lips to demand silence. Kirk threw up his hands in a _"what?"_ gesture, and McCormick gave him a scalding look in response.

"Okay, sorry," Kirk whispered to her.

Reading the display on the tricorder McCoy whispered gruffly, "I'm getting nothing but gibberish, Jim. Whatever's interfering with communications is interfering with scans, too."

"Really?" Fowler hissed, caught between confusion and excitement. "What does that mean?"

Ambassador McCormick turned again and scowled at them. Ignoring her, Kirk said, "It probably means some kind of forcefield has been activated. Bones, Scotty, come with me." Kirk gave the Ambassador a sheepish glance as he grabbed McCoy's arm and pulled him toward the security podium by the main entrance, where Sionak had replaced Sa'aat. Fowler rushed after them, quietly but frantically calling to Scotty, "Hey! Hey! You've got my gear!"

* * *

Sa'aat was more than aware that many Vulcan buildings, especially those operated and maintained by the government, mimicked the structure of the Vulcan brain: a maze of corridors surrounding a central core. Get to the core, and you could go almost anywhere in the structure; get lost in the maze of corridors, and it might be days before you could find a way out without help. And like most Vulcans, Sa'aat only had to be shown a maze once to remember it. He knew his way through the labyrinthine passageways and staircases that made up the catacomb system underneath the Cathedral, and knew where the secret passageways were. A turn to the right took him to a staircase that lead down to the level below him. Another turn to the right, then a jog to the left took him to a long passage. Down the long passage and to the left again led him to a shallow course of steps, and then to a t-juncture where the lower corridor spread out in two directions in front of him

He scanned the hallway, both right and left, with his microcorder. Having designed the security grid and forcefields, Sa'aat had the advantage of knowing how to circumvent them, and how to pierce the field to transmit signals if need be, unlike those in the structure above him or on the _Enterprise_, so his equipment still worked. Although the precise location of the odd beacon-like transmission was still beyond his unit's scope due to the interference of the kelbonite, he could tell it was emanating from somewhere to his right. He slipped silently down the corridor, alert for any sounds or movements, or any hints of web-thin laser-like trip wires, motion sensors, or planted _vip neis_ which might alert his prey to his advance.

* * *

Spock, in a dark-blue EV suit (4), stood beside Nyota at the control station in the main Transporter Room, adjusting the belt at his waist, and checking the charge on his phaser, while three security guards, dressed in dark-red EV suits, waited for him on the pads. Of the three, Spock only personally knew Security Chief Thomas Prince, who was also known as "Cupcake" – an unfortunate appellation from an altercation he'd had with the Captain before Kirk had entered the Academy. (5) Spock had to credit the former rivals for overcoming their differences and finding a way to work effectively together. He knew the other members of Prince's team only through what he had read and retained from their official files.

Security Officer Jayna Cho, nineteen, was the youngest recruit ever to have earned her way onto the security team of the Federation's flagship. Despite her age, she was a serious and self-sufficient young woman who held black belt status in various Human martial arts, and had top ratings in Klingon _moQ'bara_ (6). Cho also had a degree in xeno-psychology and was, by all reports, a budding hostage negotiator. Security Officer Preston Davis, a Federation kickboxing and anbo-jytsu champion (7), also had degrees in engineering and xeno-cartography. Spock was both impressed and gratified by the Chief's choices. They were top-grade officers, and their selection indicated that their Chief was insightful; Prince had attempted to anticipate the needs of the mission, and had chosen people he believed were best suited to meet those needs.

"Readings indicate the forcefield sits like a veritable bubble around Svitan'Kahr," Spock said to the team, "and suggests the field dissipates enough, two two-point-zero-two kilometers (8) from the source, so that a sustained phaser blast at close range might be able to poke a hole in it large enough to allow a person to pass through it. We have also determined there is a waste reclamation conduit that runs from the center of the city to a treatment node in the southwest. I intend for us to be beamed into the conduit, follow it toward Svitan'Kahr to the edge of the forcefield, breach the field, and then continue toward the city, hopefully unseen and undetected. Your EV suits should protect you from any biohazards we may encounter in the conduit, as well as any backlash from the phaser blast when it comes in contact with the forcefield. Any questions?"

The security guards shook their heads.

"Very well." Spock turned to Ensign Chekov, who was manning the transporter controls. "Because we will be beaming into a confined subterranean space, pinpoint accuracy will be required, Ensign."

"Coordinates are locked in, Commander," he informed Spock. "I'm putting you in as close to the forcefield as I can without risking any residual interference from it. Once you're there, you may have a short walk before you reach the field."

"Just don't beam us into a wall or a floor, Pav, and we can handle it," Prince said from his pad.

"Piece of pie," Chekov answered with a chuckle and a thumbs-up sign.

"_Cake_, that's _'a piece of cake'_," Davis corrected.

"Yes. That's what I meant," the ensign assured him. (9)

Ignoring their banter, Spock held out a gloved hand to Nyota. "Helmet, please."

Nyota looked at the dark blue, sleek-skinned helmet, and then held it out of Spock's reach. "Let me go with you. I can be suited up in five minutes."

"Your presence on the surface would serve no logical purpose," Spock said plainly. "I have no need for an interpreter." At her look of anxious irritation, he put his hand gently to the back of her head and drew her toward him. "The away team and the Federation delegation will be better served if you remain at your post and attempt to reestablish communications with our people on the surface," he said into her hair.

"Others are quite capable of doing that."

"Perhaps, but you are the best. I also need you to try to locate the recipient of the homing beacon. If someone is calling from the surface, it is logical to assume he or she expects someone to be out here, in space, ready to answer. I need to know who that is. Besides, one of us should stay aboard with Swahn."

"Oh, tell me you did not just play the baby-card."

Chekov smiled but kept his eyes averted to give the two some semblance of privacy, as Spock gave Nyota a kiss on the forehead, and then released her. "Helmet, please," he repeated.

She handed it to him reluctantly, and when he slipped it on, she secured the fit for him. "Just – be careful."

* * *

Kirk stood toe-to-toe with Sionak but was getting nowhere fast. "Fine," he said trying to keep his voice down. "Then let me talk to Sa'aat."

"The Fik-Zhel-Lan is otherwise engaged," Sionak's rumbling baritone was equally quiet.

"Engaged in what?" McCoy asked. Sionak's reply was an unflinching and inscrutable stare.

"Look," said Kirk. " We know a forcefield of some kind has been lit up around the city that's blocking our communications and scanners. You're cutting me off from my ship. I want to know why."

"The _fosh-duk_ was initiated to establish containment."(10)

"Containment of what?"

Sionak remained silent.

The journalist stepped from between McCoy and Scotty and said, "Gavin Fowler, FNS." He stuck his microphone up near Sionak's face, even though the transmitter wasn't working properly. "When you say containment, do you mean quarantine, soldier? Are we in some kind of danger? Are you anticipating a threat to the Council Meeting or the delegates?" When, in response, Sionak shifted his heavy lirpa forward and deliberately turned it to reveal the full span of the gleaming fan-blade on top of it, Fowler immediately shrunk back behind Scotty. "Oh. An enemy of the free press, huh?"

"Whatever the threat is, it's obviously not an immediate one, or they'd have stopped the Council Meeting and evacuated the chamber," Kirk speculated aloud. "So, it's a suspected threat, but one that hasn't been proven or come to fruition yet –"

"Aye," said Scotty. "And if it was a bomb or other explosive device, they wouldn't be using a multiphasic containment bubble. The restrictive field would limit the radius of the explosion's discharge, making the damage to the immediate area exponentially more severe."

McCoy nodded. "Sa'aat wouldn't endanger the diplomats like that; nor would he allow the only standing Vulcan city to be obliterated. He'd make sure everyone was able to get out alive and call for help..."

"So," Kirk deduced, "we must be dealing with something else: something or someone Sa'aat doesn't want to escape from the Cathedral. An enemy of the people, a convict, or an intruder..." Sionak's gaze flicked away briefly. "Yeah, an intruder," he repeated. "Who is it, Sionak? Maybe we can help."

The guard looked back at Kirk. "No interference. The Fik-Zhel-Lan made that order abundantly clear."

"Yeah, but he gave the order to you and your personnel, not to me and mine. Tell me where I can find him. Let me help." Sionak said nothing. "The faster we get the bad guy, the sooner the forcefield can be lifted, and the less problems you'll have. Eventually, the other delegates and guests are going to realize they're cut off from their ships and personnel. You might end up with a riot on your hands." Still no response. "Okay then, I'll locate Sa'aat myself."

"And how will you accomplish that without your scanning equipment?" Sionak asked.

"I've got eyes and ears, haven't I? We'll just do it _old school_." Kirk, McCoy, and Scotty started down the corridor outside of the Formal Chamber with the journalist, Fowler, scuttling to keep up. They made it past four doorways before a phalanx of Vulcan security guards, brandishing heavy lirpas, blocked the corridor ahead of them.

"Uh, captain..." Fowler muttered from behind him. Kirk turned around to find Sionak and four other guards impeding their retreat.

"Well, that was a short trip," said McCoy.

"I cannot allow you to wander the Cathedral unescorted, or permit you to continue to monopolize my resources," Sionak said. "Return to the Council Meeting, Captain Kirk."

"No."

"Then you limit my alternatives."

"We don't want to limit his alternatives, do we, Captain?" Fowler asked.

Kirk ignored the journalist and stepped back toward Sionak, saying, "Look, Sionak. I get it. I do. You're a good soldier, dedicated, loyal to your commander, and you're just following orders. But you're also a man of action, right? You don't want to stand here in the hallways talking to me; or sit at your station in the Chamber listening to diplomats natter on for hours and hours about sects and appointments, while the real action takes place somewhere else. Come on. Let me help you help Sa'aat."

Sionak gazed down at the captain and the others, and after a long pause simply said, "Arrest them."

* * *

Each member of Spock's away-team activated the lights on their helmets and wristbands to illuminate the sewage conduit. The tunnel they had beamed into was approximately eight feet wide, with an eight-foot high curved ceiling. The black-water and debris running along the floor came up to their calves.

"Ooo, lovely accommodations," Cho remarked through her suit-mounted communicator. "I wonder what the bridal suite looks like."

"It's nice to know your standards aren't too high," Davis chuckled.

"Why does that surprise you, Davis? I dated you once, didn't I?"

Her team members laughed, but Spock didn't find the comment amusing, and withheld any response. Instead, he said into his communicator, "Transport successful, Ensign Chekov. Thank you."

The reply was crackly with static but still audible, "We read you, Mister Spock. The edge of the containment field should be four-point-five meters (11) ahead of you."

"Acknowledged." Spock stepped ahead of the security team and led them forward through the sludge. Sloshing through the calf-high sewage against the planet's naturally heavier gravity, made movement somewhat difficult for the Humans, but they made every effort to keep up with Spock and voiced no complaints. Nonetheless, they were all grateful when, within just a few minutes, he announced, "The field should be directly in front of us."

"How can you tell, sir?" Prince asked, coming up to Spock's side. He could see nothing.

"He's a Vulcan, Chief," Davis reminded him. "He can calculate distances in his head."

"Thank you, Mister Davis," Spock said. "That is quite true; but you will also note there is a telltale disturbance in the detritus at this point." He pointed his wrist-lamp down to better illuminate the spot where the sewage hit the edge of the forcefield and curled back on itself. On the other side, the level of waste was considerably higher.

"When we punch through, it's going to be like pulling the plug on a dam," Cho remarked. "That stuff is going to be coming straight at us."

"Yeah, a regular shit-shower," Prince grumbled. "Just what we need." Once again, Spock ignored the commentary. He understood that Humans in stressful situations sometimes felt the need to vent or mock their circumstances as a coping mechanism. He himself preferred a more direct approach. He removed the expandable tripod they had brought from the back of Prince's EV suit. The chief helped him anchor the tripod's legs into the tunnel's floor, and he mounted Cho's phaser on it. Spock adjusted the phaser's settings and said, "I suggest you find a way to brace yourselves," as he aimed the phaser at the forcefield, and set it to fire continuously.

The field was virtually invisible to the naked eye, but when the beam from the phaser hit it, the field fluoresced as it coalesced around the weapon's energy, trying to combat it. As the input against the forcefield built, it glowed more brightly; some of the energy rebounded back at the away-team, while some of it was disbursed as heat.

The sewage around their feet and calves was whipped into a frothy soup, which eventually began to simmer and evaporate in rising and curling clouds of grayish-brown mist. Creatures in the sludge began climbing out of the water to escape the increasing temperature. Two large, flat, soft-bodied _plak-seshayik-veh_ oozed their way up Spock's legs to his back and shoulders, while droves of gilled _tevak-sark_ and _guhsh-ravot _(12) scuttled up the curved walls of the tunnel. Less mobile creatures boiled and floated to the top of the muck, carried in small circles by the swirling current. Spock peeled the _plak-seshayik-veh_ from his EV suit and stuck them onto the wall, as a gap finally started forming in the forcefield.

At first it was only the size of a basketball, but the sewage from the other side of the field immediately began to gush through it. Some of the sluice evaporated immediately, while the rest of it hissed and roiled as it rushed over and around the tripod. When a huge lamprey-like animal was flushed through the gap, it gave out a squeal of shock and pain, whipped off to the left, and struck Cho's helmet directly in the face plate knocking her onto her back in the murky water. As she was carried a few feet down-tunnel by the current, all she could see was a gaping, suction-like mouth filled with rows of rotifer teeth, before the creature fell away from her and wound its way quickly down the tunnel. "What the fuck was that?" Cho exclaimed as Davis helped her back onto her feet.

"A New Vulcan _ring-mouth_," Spock said calmly over the screech of the phaser. (13)

"Guess it doesn't like girls," Davis quipped and Cho punched him in the arm.

When the gap in the forcefield had widened enough to allow a person to pass through it, Spock let his team go ahead of him. Prince went first, avoiding the phaser stream, and shoving past the gush of sewage to the other side of the field by sheer force of will. Cho followed, and Davis went last. Spock set the timer on the phaser so it would shut off after he had made it through the field, and then leapt through the gap. By the time he reached his team and turned around, the beam had ceased, and the forcefield was healing itself closed again. Spock waited a few more seconds, watching as the tripod and the now deactivated phaser vanished in a transporter beam.

Davis and Prince looked surprised, and Cho explained, "He had it beamed back to the ship; can't leave Starfleet property just laying around for anyone to find."

"Indeed," Spock said.

"Hey," said Davis. "Why... why can we hear each other? Shouldn't our communicators be blocked on this side of the field like everything else?"

Spock pointed at the glowing wound on the field. "A gap still remains opens. When the field is completely closed again, our communicators will be useless." He looked around him. "No doubt our intrusion has registered somewhere with the planet's security forces. We may have company in the tunnel before we reach the city, but I want no accidents or injuries. Keep your phasers on stun. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Cho and Davis answered in chorus. Prince nodded, "Aye aye, Commander."

"Follow me."

* * *

"Nice," McCoy paced around the sub-level room in the Cathedral that had obviously been designed with criminals in mind. All of the furnishings – a table, chair, and plank-like bed-slab – were made of solid metal and bolted into the floor. The corners and edges of everything were rounded, so they couldn't be used to injure oneself or saw through bindings. The light fixtures were molded into the wall, and the door was solid duranium, the same material used to construct the hulls of Federation starships. "This is just how I wanted to spend my afternoon," he said, as he undid the buttons of his dress coat, removed it, and slammed it on the table.

"Relax, Bones," Kirk, perched on the end of the bed-slab, said.

"Relax? And how exactly am I supposed to do that, Captain?"

"Give me a minute. I'll think of something."

"They took my equipment!" Fowler complained.

"They took all of our equipment," McCoy corrected him.

"How does the door look, Scotty?" Kirk asked.

"I'm working on it, Captain," the engineer said from where he knelt by the door and tried to pry off the clear panel that covered the control console.

Fowler, pacing the room in the opposite direction as McCoy, crossed behind Scotty, saying, "My editor is going to put me back on the obit column... assuming he doesn't kill me first! Do you know how expensive the JJ-2009 is? What if they don't give it back after the Council Meeting? It would take me fifty years to pay that thing off! Assuming I'll ever be able to work again. Somewhere above me is the first-ever New Vulcan Council Meeting, only the biggest event since the destruction of their home planet, and I'm down here, locked in with a bunch of Boy Scouts, who, by the way, won't even give me an interview!"

Scotty pushed against the clear panel with both hands in an attempt to crack it. The panel didn't give any, but as Scotty grumbled in frustration, something in the ceiling groaned.

Kirk slid off the bed and started toward the door. "What's that noise?"

Heavy duranium bars dropped from the ceiling in front of the door. "Och, ya bas!" (14) Scotty swore angrily. "Tampering with the panel cover must've set off a contingency program; now the door is both locked and barred."

"Well that's just wonderful," McCoy said sarcastically.

Kirk banged on the bars with the flat of his hand, getting nothing from them but a dull metallic thud. "Crap."

* * *

Sa'aat's examination of the three cul-de-sacs in the lower corridor revealed nothing but storerooms and small offices. He then jogged down the hall, first taking a right, and then another sharp right, to an area containing a series of alcoves jutting from the corridor like fistulas. Each alcove had a long, thin 'neck' and a bulbous chamber at the end; the necks were secured with two locked gates, one at the corridor itself, and one nearer to the chamber. Legal documents, ancient texts, and other historical mementoes were currently being stored in these rooms until a permanent place could be constructed for them. This was also the area with the strongest readings of kelbonite.

Sa'aat shut off his microcorder, clipped it onto his belt, and noiselessly drew his lipitah. He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sent his mind into each antechamber.

* * *

Spock and his team rushed through the sewage conduit at a fast clip, sloshing through debris and filth, sometimes frightening _valits_ out of their hidey holes in the tunnel walls and sending them squeaking in all directions. (15) Although his team was gasping and puffing behind him, Spock kept up his pace for over a mile, until they reached an area where the tunnel narrowed, and light from above ground filtered through grates in the ceiling. He looked around while Cho, Prince, and Davis bent forward, their hands on their knees, and caught their breath. "If my estimates are correct, we should be close to the area where the medical bivouacs have been erected, just outside the main gate," he said. After a few seconds, Security Chief Prince touched his arm. Spock looked at him, and the Chief, his face still red from exertion, tapped the side of his helmet and shook his head, indicating that nothing was coming through the suits' communications nodes now.

Spock lifted his hand, balling it into a fist, and nodded it twice in the Federation Sign Language for "yes." He continued, signing: "The field is blocking transmissions."

Prince nodded, and Spock stepped under the nearest grate and looked up. The mid-afternoon sky shone bright tan and blue through the wide cross-hatched mesh. Prince waved his hand in front of Spock's helmet to get his attention again, and then signed: "Need a leg up?" When he nodded, the Security Chief interlaced his fingers and crouched down so Spock could use his hands like a stirrup. Despite Spock's lithe build, the chief struggled a little against his heavier Vulcan physiology and the planet's gravity, to boost him up.

Spock gave the grate a hard shake, dislodging it from the lip on which it rested. He waited a few moments to see if anyone, or anything, above ground was going to react to the movement. Some sand filtered down, but nothing else, so Spock pushed the grate up and out of his way. He clambered onto Prince's shoulders and then out through the hole onto the surface. Cho was up next, then Davis. To get Prince out of the sewer, Spock lay on his stomach, and while Davis and Cho anchored his legs, he reached in with both hands. It took Prince several tries to leap high enough for Spock to catch his wrists, but once the contact was established, Spock was able to pull the larger man up without much effort.

The medical bivouacs were about thirty meters away, and just beyond them stood the arching gate of the city. Spock pulled off his helmet, and the other followed suit, taking deep lungfuls of fresh air - even though it was hot. Then Davis exclaimed, "Oh, man, we reek!" He was going to pinch his nose, but realized he still had on his sewage-soaked gloves and immediately aborted his action.

Ignoring him, Prince stood at Spock's side and said, "It's weird we've made it this far without meeting with any interference, Commander. With the heightened security around the Council Meeting, you'd think this place would be crawling with guards by now."

"Yes," said Spock. "The lack of reaction on Sa'aat's part does seem rather atypical."

"Maybe the forcefield is jamming his equipment as well."

"That would be highly unlikely. Sa'aat would never design and employ a defensive mechanism that put him at a disadvantage. It is, therefore, logical to assume he knows we are here, but does not see us as a threat to security."

"We still need to change into something less stinky," Cho pointed out. "Otherwise, the Vulcan guards are going to be able to smell us long before they actually see us."

"Agreed."

"We can grab some medical scrubs at the bivouacs," Prince suggested.

"My thoughts exactly."

* * *

Scotty sat in the only chair in the holding cell, while Doctor McCoy continued to pace. Fowler sat on the edge of the bed, pouting; while Kirk ran his hands around the perimeter of the door. When the bolts suddenly snapped back up into the ceiling, Kirk jumped back, genuinely surprised, and instinctively reached for his phaser pistol - which wasn't there. The Vulcans had confiscated it.

Fowler, amazed, asked, "How did you do that?"

"I don't know."

The locking mechanism inside the door _whirred _and_ clicked_, and Scotty and McCoy came up to stand on either side of their captain; Fowler remained behind them. "Careful," he said to their backs.

"Afraid someone might see you?" McCoy grumbled as the door _thiiipped_ open.

V'Rha'lahn stood outside the cell, holding a Vulcan phaser in one hand and a PADD in the other. No one moved for a few seconds, as the young woman studied the men, who, in turn stared at her. She flipped the weapon over and handed it, butt-first, to Kirk. "I thought you may be in need of assistance," she explained.

"You're one of Spock's plak-tau women – V'Rha'lahn, " McCoy remembered aloud.

V'Rha'lahn looked at him as though that fact was obvious and didn't require a response.

"How – how did you find us? Why are you here?" Kirk asked, confused about her sudden and unexpected presence.

"It was my impression you were the first to discover the forcefield around the city, and were seeking to locate Sa'aat to ascertain an explanation. Sionak did not want you to disturb his superior, and confined you to this space," V'Rha'lahn said. Looking around the doorway, she added, "The double-barring does seem excessive, however."

"Yeah... we thought so, too."

"How did you find out about the forcefield?" McCoy asked.

"When I noted the looks of distress on your faces, and saw you check and re-check your equipment you alerted me to the possibility. I then deduced as much, based on empirical evidence, just as you did," V'Rha'lahn answered. She handed the PADD over to him. "This belonged to one of the security guards. I appropriated it for your use. It still seems to be functioning properly. As you can see, Commander Spock contacted Sa'aat and, immediately following their conversation, Sa'aat initiated the containment field around the city. Apparently, there is an intruder within the Cathedral important enough to attract the full attention of the Fik-Zhel-Lan. That, in itself, is a cause for concern."

"We agree," Kirk said. "So... who do you think it might be?"

"I do not have enough data to articulate an answer with any level of certainty," the young woman answered blandly. "However, within their conversation, both Sa'aat and Commander Spock referred to a _'she'_."

"She," Kirk echoed, puzzled.

McCoy thought for a moment, and then ventured, "What if it's T'Pau?"

"A possibility," V'Rha'lahn concurred. "She knows all of the access routes into the Cathedral, and still has many followers who are loyal to her and wish to see her reinstated as a Minister. They would have no qualms about assisting her."

Kirk agreed. "She would certainly get Sa'aat's attention."

"You mean the T'Pau?" Fowler asked, awed. "The only person ever to turn down a seat on the Federation Council? Wow, this just keeps getting better and better. You, uh, you didn't happen to see a JJ-unit lying around, did you, Miss?"

V'Rha'lahn gave him a slight frown, as McCoy said, "If it is T'Pau, I don't think we want either Sa'aat or Spock anywhere near her. Sa'aat will kill her."

"Why?" V'Rha'lahn asked.

"It's a long story." He looked at Kirk, adding, "I don't know if Spock can handle seeing her again, Jim."

"Then we'd better find her before anything happens."

"This device," V'Rha'lahn directed Kirk's attention to the PADD in McCoy's hands, "contains the schematics of the Cathedral, including the underground passages. I set it to locate both your party and Sa'aat. Finding you was simple – although I had to disable two guards in order to reach you. When they are discovered, an alarm will be raised. Therefore, we should not loiter here much longer. Sa'aat seems to be in one of the lowest sublevels, but I am having difficulty acquiring an accurate fix on his location."

"Because of the containment field?" McCoy asked.

"No. The interference comes from a different source, more confined than the field."

Scotty looked over McCoy's shoulder at the PADD, and reached around to adjust the readings. "It's kelbonite," he said.

"T'Pau has used that before," McCoy remarked. The captain and Scotty were unaware of the full story surrounding the recovery of T'Cloo's fetus, including T'Pau's use of kelbonite to hide her desert bunker, so to avoid an uncomfortable conversation McCoy added, "Sa'aat mentioned it once."

"It wouldn't surprise me," Scotty said. "T'Pau was the near-head of the military for a while, and knows how to use native minerals for defense purposes. And kelbonite is easy enough to come by. Veins of it run throughout the planet."

Kirk nodded, satisfied by the explanation. "Let's head toward the kelbonite, then," he said, gripping the phaser. He stepped to the door, glancing into the corridor to make sure it was clear, and then looked at V'Rha'lahn. "It might be best if you stay topside with the delegation."

"I am coming with you."

"It might be dangerous, and... there's no way I can guarantee your safety."

"Vulcans are trained in battle strategies and self-defense from childhood, Captain. I am quite capable of defending myself."

"She did take out two security guards single-handedly, sir," Scotty reminded him.

The captain shook his head, but shrugged anyway. "Fine..." he said, and headed out the door. As the others followed him, McCoy said to V'Rha'lahn, "Sa'aat is going to ground you for the rest of your life for this."

V'Rha'lahn blinked at him. "I do not understand that reference."

* * *

Slipping soundlessly past the first two double-gated alcoves, Sa'aat halted before the third. The filigreed iron gate at the mouth of the alcove was unlocked, as, presumably, was the second gate further down the bottleneck. Large crates of various shapes and sizes were stacked along the walls and over most of the floor of the room beyond the narrow entrance, illuminated by a single fixture in the ceiling.

Sa'aat put a finger against the first gate's lock and pushed the gate into the bottleneck. He paused again, searching the area with his eyes and mind before stepping inside. Standing in the middle of the narrow corridor, he called out, "_Ko-eshu'a_. I know you are there." (16)

No one answered him, and he continued toward the second gate. "You can shield your mind from me, but every shield has its own signature, like a fingerprint or DNA. I have learned to recognize yours. Hiding yourself, therefore, is a waste of your energy and my time."

There was a pause full of non-sound and non-movement, before she stepped from behind one of the tallest crates in the room. "La'nash-veh, Sa'aat. Whet kosu do e'shua, u'gla-tor du." _(I am here, Sa'aat. More woman than devil, as you see.)_

Sa'aat shook his head. "There is no womanhood left within you."

T'Pau _tsked_ at him. "Dungi-fam stariben tor nash-veh svi'salatik gen-lis t'etwel du ha?" _(Will you not speak to me in our native tongue?)_

"Vulcan words are defiled by your lips."

"So much resentment, Sa'aat," she said with a slow, disapproving smirk. "You really do need to control yourself."

"Were I not in control, madam, you would be dead on the floor right now in a pool of your own blood."

T'Pau, chin held high, back rigid and eyes full of the conceited contempt she did not allow to touch her other features, sighed, clasping her hands in front of her. The stance was meant to show that not only was she weaponless, but that she didn't feel the need to defend herself at the moment, insinuating that Sa'aat wasn't much of a threat to her. He maintained his position in the center of the bottleneck, crossing his arms over his chest, making himself a barrier. They each had drawn their lines in the proverbial sand.

"Pretty costume," T'Pau said, in reference to Sa'aat's new uniform.

"Unfortunate haircut," he responded flatly. Her once-long hair was now trimmed and banged like that of a young boy. She was dressed for travel, in pants and a short black tunic; she had evidently been expecting someone to answer her homing beacon and beam her away. But Sa'aat's containment field had interfered with that for the moment, and so, here she stood.

"You made your way into the Cathedral disguised as a Page," he surmised.

"A less than convincing masquerade, to be sure, given my age, but it served my purpose. You left me with very few options. Your people were searching for me everywhere, despite the diversion of the _Marom'es_, and I was running out of places to conceal myself."

"It is a large planet; surely you could have found other accommodations."

"Perhaps. However, my condition required shelter and access to medical assistance. And with all eyes looking for me, were I in a more open space, the smallest movement would have given me away. Where better, then, to wait for rescue than in the one place you were least likely to look for me: under your feet?"

"Your condition," Sa'aat looked her over again. He knew from the high levels of estrogen, aldosterone, cortisol and thyroxine found in the blood samples taken from towels left in her bunker that she had been pregnant. Now, however, her body seemed to contradict that evidence: there was no swell in her middle proclaiming she was with child, and, he noted, she had seemingly lost most, if not all, of her maternity weight. "You were foolish to abort the fetus. It was the only thing that might have kept you alive."

"You assume much. Will you not allow me to explain?"

"Speak all you wish; but remember, I am a _tostausu_ of the Hurgh Ghor Guild; I have heard every plea for mercy there is, and the words of a dead person hold little sway."(17)

"If that is true, why do most of our people still listen to Surak?" T'Pau's voice was laden with deliberate scorn.

"Surak is not dead."

"Guhsh." _(Rubbish.)_

"You used to believe. As a Syrranite, you even fought to protect Surak's _Kir'Shara_ and bring it back to the Vulcan people."(18)

"I was young. Impressionable. Naive. No longer."

"Unfortunate. Do you remember the precise moment you lost your faith?"

T'Pau set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. "– On the day we lost our world to one man's egotism and arrogance, and no force, no prophet, no god lifted a finger to intervene on our behalf," her voice was a growl. "We, who had shown the galaxy strength and peace and logic for millennia, were utterly alone when the _Narada_ came to claim us. Where was the voice of Surak on that day? Where were our gods? What logic was there in our annihilation? You were there; you saw it: entire populations, entire species, an entire planet obliterated within minutes with nothing, but a hole filled with dust left. Dozens clung to me as we fled the earthquakes, but our private shuttles were not large enough to contain them all, and I had to leave many behind... so many..." She put a hand to her head. "I can still hear them crying and raging, along with the billions of others, all aware they had moments to live, and then all of them dying in that same extinguishing instant. Tell me you are deaf to them, Sa'aat."

"All Vulcans carry the resonance of that sound in our spirits and our minds."

"Then you understand my pain, the impetus of my outrage, the depth of my loss."

"We all suffered the same loss, T'Pau, but it did not cause the rest of us to degenerate into deceivers, and rapists, and harvesters of the dead. Grief will not exonerate you, or justify what you have done."

"This, coming from a man whose own losses twisted him into an assassin, the _Gas'rak El'ru T'Reah_. (19) You use your grief as a pretext to kill, so you will excuse me if I fail to see how we differ."

"Retribution did and does compel me," Sa'aat admitted. "However, madam, we differ in that I was able to look into the face of the Medusa and survive, and you did not. (20) You are mad. You not only lost your faith when our home world was destroyed; you lost your mind... and your honor."

T'Pau gave him a thin smirk. "Insane, am I?"

"How else do you explain what you did to T'Cloo in the Mazhiv Solai?"

"Logic dictated I make use of the materials available to me. My pregnancy was troublesome, and if my fetus had died, I would need another to replace it. Do not look so astonished. You said it yourself: the only thing keeping me alive was Spock's unborn. I dared not lose that security."

Sa'aat's grip on his lipitah tightened, and his whole visage constricted with it. The atmosphere around them suddenly felt dense, leaden, and oppressive. "Had you not set Semuk loose upon Spock, you would have had no need for such security."

"If it had not been Semuk, it would have been another," T'Pau pretended to ignore his dark rage, blithely pulling one of the smaller crates from among the stacks in the alcove room. After situating it carefully, she sat, brushing some dust from her pants leg. "You will, no doubt, disagree with me when I tell you that Spock – in both his incarnations – deserved what he received," she said. "Spock Prime was responsible for the destruction of our world. His arrogance and ego led him to believe he could single-handedly save Romulus; and when he failed, we all paid the price: Romulans and Vulcans alike..."

"Nero of Romulus destroyed our world, not Spock."

"Red matter was unknown to this universe before Spock, fleeing like a caitiff from his deserved fate, brought it here," T'Pau snapped. "Nero may have activated the weapon that annihilated Vulcan, but it was Spock who put that weapon into his hands and showed him how to use it!"

"So you murdered him."

"Of course, I did. Someone had to. He was a threat to our people, a constant reminder of our agony. Someone had to put an end to him, and I was the only one courageous enough to do it." T'Pau paused to take a breath, composing herself, before looking back at Sa'aat. "Killing him did not fully extinguish the menace he posed, however. There was still your Spock, your _ashayam_, (21) with which to contend: an echo of the original, born with the same arrogant, rebellious self-righteousness, a younger bottle of the same poison. When the Fonn Vuhlkansu was established, I knew it was only a matter of time before he would become a bona fide influence among our people, leading us down the same path of obliteration as his counterpart. Thus, I made him come to me, through the Ek'tevan Prerogative, and bent him to my will. I took what I needed from him to secure my own safety, and had Semuk beat the insolence out of him, and force his acquiescence to the act. Semuk would have done anything for me, you see; he was under the impression he loved me. But he had lost most of his fortune on Vulcan, and had little for the bride price... so he paid me with your Spock's blood."

"Semuk paid for his theft with his life."

"Yes; and was mutilating him really necessary, my wholly sane and judicious Sa'aat? Or did you simply enjoy doing that... as much as Semuk enjoyed goring your beloved with his lechery?"

Sa'aat's knuckles went white around the hilt of his dagger. The light fixture over T'Pau's head hummed and dimmed, as though the energy was being sucked from it, and the alcove's walls trembled, raining fine dust on her, as though the rocks had suddenly shifted or compressed. T'Pau's eyes flicked around, and with feigned nonchalance she asked, "Will you bring the room down on me, Sa'aat? Kill me by burying me alive?"

"You are already dead, madam. Your mind has simply not yet accepted that fact."

* * *

"If I'm reading this right, the kelbonite deposits should be straight ahead, Jim," McCoy whispered. "We turn right here, and then make another sharp right to a hallway with a bunch of little rooms jutting off of it."

"The conservator's alcoves," V'Rha'lahn also whispered.

"Reading any people ahead?" Kirk asked.

"Two... both Vulcan..." McCoy answered.

"What if they're guards?" Fowler hissed at them. "Maybe I should hang back. You know, be a lookout here..."

"Yeah, why don't you do that," Kirk agreed, continuing toward the alcoves.

* * *

Sa'aat approached the second gate to the bowl-shaped room slowly, checking for any traps, and pushed it open with his foot. Its momentum generated a breeze that ruffled the cuffs of T'Pau's dress pants and caused dust to swirl in tiny tarantellas across the floor. T'Pau watched the dust, her mind revisiting the sight of Vulcan whirling away into the black hole and she winced at the pain the memory caused in her head. She put her fingertips to her temple to stop the ache, and then looked calmly into Sa'aat's face. His features were cast in stony composure, but his eyes burned. She smoothed a few nonexistent wrinkles from her clothing and said, "If you kill me, you will never find it."

* * *

Entering the alcove corridor, V'Rha'lahn made a quieting gesture to Kirk and the others. "Listen," she whispered, and they tilted their heads slightly, trying to catch whatever sounds might be coming from ahead of them.

From one of the alcove rooms, a woman's voice said, "If you kill me, you will never find it."

V'Rha'lahn whispered, "It is T'Pau."

A male voice, which Kirk immediately recognized as Sa'aat's answered, "Nothing you have is of any interest to me."

"No? Not even the offspring of your _ashayam_?" There was a pause, and the woman's voice continued with, "As I said before, you assumed much. I did not abort the fetus. Spock's child arrived prematurely."

"Crap," Kirk swore under his breath.

"Spock's child?" V'Rha'lahn's normally dower face filled with blatant shock and confusion. "What does she mean?"

"We'll explain later," McCoy promised.

* * *

"Prevarication," Sa'aat said.

T'Pau glanced at the dagger in his hand, and then met his eyes again, saying, "Vulcans do not lie. The child was born."

"You are not worthy to call yourself a Vulcan."

"Kal'i uf'du, t'var'eth'uh!" T'Pau lurched to her feet. Her body clenched, her face blanching with sudden, unsuppressed rage, she screamed, "Nam-tor nash-veh rishan tol-travek - svi'sular t'nash-veh pid-com'uh! Nam-tor nash-veh kosu t'tepul eh don-tak'uh! Nam-tor nash'veh T'Pau'uh!" _(How dare you, whelp! I am of an ancient lineage / gene family; a matriarch among my people! I am a woman of power and wealth! I am __T'Pau__!)_

"No," Sa'aat said calmly, very slowly, still refusing to speak to her in Vulcan. "You are a criminal, and I am now the highest legal authority on this planet. Your accounts are all frozen, which your confederates will no doubt find both amusing and irritating when they try to access them. Your estate is lost to the statute of eminent domain, and all of your former titles, powers and privileges have been voided. On this new world, at this moment, you are nothing. You are no one. You have no rights, no freedoms, no opportunities, unless I choose to give them to you."

T'Pau's eyes thinned into angry slits, and she turned her back to Sa'aat and took a few steps further into the room, her hands balled tight at her sides. She looked at him from over her shoulder. "You do not believe me? I can prove the child exists." She pointed to her head with one shaking finger. "See for yourself."

Sa'aat adjusted his stance slightly, erecting internal walls to protect his consciousness from her, and then let his mind stab into hers like a javelin. He saw the birth of her child – Spock's child. He felt the pain of her contractions, the heat of the blood, and the expulsion of the child and the afterbirth. The infant was tiny, a frail boy, not unlike Swahn. He heard the infant's first cries, soft and wretched, like the gravelly mewl of a newborn kitten, before T'Pau grunted loudly, ejecting him. She fell against one of the larger crates, holding her head between her hands, gasping.

"Where is it?" Sa'aat demanded, but it was several seconds before she was able to speak again. Her face was going gray with fatigue and pain from contending against him.

"Release me from this place, and I will tell you."

Sa'aat considered her for a few moments, before he countered with, "If you created the child to protect yourself from me, you would not have set it far from your reach. You would keep it close, so you could use it as a shield. Therefore, assuming it is still alive, it is likely hidden somewhere within this structure, perhaps within this very room, tucked away in some secret place or screened by the kelbonite."

"You cannot both watch me, and search for it."

"You may be astonished by what I can do, madam." T'Pau glowered, challenging him with her eyes and mind to do his worst. He placed his free hand against the framework holding the second gate in place, and set his mind against it.

* * *

Outside the alcove, Kirk stopped as the iron bracings around the interior gate gave out a loud metallic screech, and the huge bolts securing the gate to the walls burst out, clattered down the bottleneck into the hall, and came to a rolling halt at his feet. The walls groaned, and more dust filtered from the ceiling.

"What the hell is that?" McCoy whispered.

"The _eschak_," V'Rha'lahn murmured, "the killing gift, a destructive form of self-actuated psychokenesis. I knew Sa'aat was an Adept, but I had no idea he had mastered such a power."

From inside the alcove Sa'aat said, "If necessary, I can pull this entire structure down to its foundations to find the child. I can also exenterate your mind for the information I want – with or without your cooperation."

"_Kae'at k'lasa_?" T'Pau snarled. "Resort to that and you are no less a criminal than I am." (22)

"I would see it as a form of... _yeht-gav t'a'rip'an_. A rape for a rape." (23)

"Then do it," T'Pau dared him. "Destroy this place; destroy me! What do you wait for, Sa'aat? What else do you want of me?"

"I want nothing of you, madam, except your finality."

Fearing that Sa'aat would certainly kill T'Pau, Captain Kirk ran into the bottleneck of the alcove, shouting, "Sa'aat! Don't do it!"

Sa'aat glanced at him, but quickly focused his will toward T'Pau again – but the surge from his mind impacted with nothing but empty space.

"Bath'pa'uh!" Sa'aat roared. (24)

T'Pau was gone.

* * *

(1) **T'Mor and Jarok:** according to the Memory Beta site, these two were disciples of Surak who branched off from his philosophy of strict emotional control and founded their own schools of thought. T'Mor believed in "predestination"; that one is born with certain inclinations which one cannot fight. Jarok believed in the mastery of the Inner Chorus.

(2) **Author's Note:** You may recognize the gist of some of Sybok's speech as echoing the sentiments of US District Court Judge, Vaughn R. Walker, in his August 2010 ruling on the unconstitutionality of California's Proposition 8, which banned marriages between same-sex couples. Judge Walker, of course, didn't use the "talking out one's rectum" verbiage; that was all Sybok. Hah!

(3) **FNS:** the "_Federation News Service_". According to the Memory Alpha site: "The Federation News Service was an agency that published news of notable events in the United Federation of Planets and known space... It is unknown whether the Federation News Service is a government-sponsored agency or an independent organization."

(4) **EV Suit:** an _"environmental suit"_, head-to-toe suits made to protect the wearer from adverse or dangerous environments. They include magnetic boots, hoods, helmets and gloves, and can also be outfitted with parachutes. We saw samples of the EV suits in the 2009 _"Star Trek"_ movie when Kirk and the others free-jumped from a shuttlecraft and onto the platform of the _Narada's_ mining equipment. Other more bulky versions of EV suits have also been seen in other Trek films and TV series.

(5) **Thomas Prince:** In the 2009 _"Star Trek"_ movie "Cupcake" was never given a real name. "Thomas Prince" is the name assigned to him by another Star trek fanfic writer, **Diddlepie**, in her _"Medal of Valor"_ story, so this is my little nod to her and her work on the character. The **altercation** referred to is, of course, the brawl in the bar in Iowa between Kirk, Cupcake, and several other security guards depicted in the 2009 _"Star Trek" _movie.

(6) **MoQ'bara:** a Klingon form of martial arts that often employs the use of a bat'leth.

(7) **Anbo-jytsu:** According to the Memory Alpha site, "It took place in a circular arena, where two opponents would compete against each other. Both competitors wore light protective armor and a helmet that had a solid visor, which effectively blinded the competitor." William Riker, ST:TNG, was a great fan of anbo-jytsu, and once competed with his own father in the ring.

(8) **2.02 kilometers** is equal to about 1¼ miles.

(9) **Piece of Pie:** this is a nod to dialog in the motion picture _"2010: Odyssey Two"_ in which a Russian cosmonaut and an America astronaut participate in a running gag on the whole "pie"/"cake" metaphor.

(10) **Fosh-duk:** translated from the Vulcan, this means "force-bubble", a containment field.

(11) **4.5 meters** is about 15 feet.

(12) **The things in the sewer:** _plak-seshayik-veh_ translates from the Vulcan as "blood-pulling-things"; they are a kind of leech; _tevak-sark_ translates from the Vulcan as "death-beetles" and _guhsh-ravot_ translates as "garbage insects". The beetles and garbage insects both have a set of gills that allows them to breathe under water, and are basically just harmless detritivores that eat the sewage and debris, and help to break it down. The leeches can be are more of a problem if they come in direct contact with living tissue. **NOTE**: none of these are canon; I just made them up.

(13) **New Vulcan Ring-mouth:** also called a _kusaya-ru'lut_; a sort of sightless lamprey that lives off of carrion and waste materials. The average length is three feet, but some can get as large as eight feet long. **NOTE:** not canon; I made these beasties up myself, too.

(14) **Ya bas:** Scottish slang word for "bastard".

(15) **Valits:** rodents, like mice or rats.

(16) **Ko-eshu'a**: translated from the Vulcan it means "female demon" or "devil woman".

(17) **Tostausu**: The Vulcan word for _"assassin"_, or _"one who executes"_.

(18) **Syrranites**: this was a group of Vulcans who followed Syrran, a Vulcan who carried the katra of Surak in modern times. When he died, he transferred the katra into then-Captain Archer, who in turn transferred it into the care of the Vulcan high priests. T'Pau had fought with the Syrranites against the standing government at that time, and with Archer's help located and returned to the Vulcan people the _Kir'Sharra_: It was this act which brought her into power on Vulcan. (ENT: _"Kir'Shara"_, _"Awakening"_)

(19) **Gas'rak El'ru T'Reah**: you may recall that Ste've called Sa'aat the same thing in Chapter 20 of this story. From the Vulcan this translates as, _"The Right Hand of Reah"_. In Vulcan mythology, Reah is the goddess of the Underworld, Death and Bereavement (according to the VLD).

(20) **Medusa:** in Greek mythology on Earth, Medusa was one of the gorgon sisters who had snakes for hair. If you looked into her face, you would turn to stone. In the Trek universe, the Medusa are a race of beings who are presumably so hideous that if you look at them without a special visor to protect your eyes, you will go insane. In the TOS episode _"Is There No Truth in Beauty"_, Spock mind-melded with a Medusan but then afterwards forgot to put his visor back on, and when he detached himself from the meld, he saw the Medusan in its full rom and went immediately mad. **Author's Note:** In this context, Sa'aat is, of course, speaking metaphorically.

(21) **Ashayam**: according to the VLD, the word is Vulcan for _"a beloved person; used as a term of endearment; similar to t'hy'la but more personal and with emotional connotations; used in fan fiction"_.

(22) **Kae'at k'lasa**: the Vulcan term for "mind-rape"; forcibly invading another's mind against their will. Vulcans tend to view this as even more insidious than physical rape.

(23) **Yeht-gav t'a'rip'an**: The Vulcan term for _"poetic justice"_; more literally translated it means _"justice of poetic writing"_

(24) **Bath'pa'uh**: the word _bath'pa_ is one of the few Vulcan curse words, and the suffix _'uh_ adds an exclamation is _"an appeal to some supernatural power to inflict evil on someone or some group; damns; condems to a fate; profane or obscene expression usually of surprise or anger"_. Since Vulcans believe in emotional control, their vocabulary of curse words is very limited, and the use of one is considered shocking.


	29. Chapter 29

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the beta'ed version of this chapter. And I once again thank my fantastic beta FarStrider for doing such a great job of trimming the fat off my prose, and keeping the essence of it intact.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

Sa'aat bulldozed through the stacks of crates, flinging the full force of his mind toward the stone tilt-door in the alcove's back wall as it started to close behind T'Pau. It exploded, hurling stony shrapnel into the passageway beyond, and her shrieks echoed in the alcove as pieces struck her. Sa'aat side-stepped the shattered door and rushed after her, with Kirk and the others just a few lengths behind him.

As they reached the buckled door, Doctor McCoy caught Kirk's sleeve, "Careful, Jim; interfere and he might rip you a new one."

"He's going to _kill_ her, Bones," the captain answered.

"Considering what she's done—and I can't believe _I'm_ saying this, but—would that necessarily be a bad thing?"

Fowler had no idea what the doctor was referring to, but Kirk's face was an agony of indecision. The captain clenched his jaw, determined, and tugged his sleeve away, continuing to run after Sa'aat. Engineer Scott cut past them, following Kirk, leaving McCoy in the doorway with Fowler and V'Rha'lahn.

"Okay, when are you people going to tell me what's going on?" Fowler demanded. "Was that _really_ T'Pau? Why is she dressed like a man? Why does the Fik-Zhel-Lan want to kill her? What did she do?"

"Yes, Doctor," V'Rha'lahn blocked the doorway with her arm so McCoy could not get past her. "What _did_ she do?"

"It's a long story," McCoy told them.

"One that has something to do with Commander Spock," V'Rha'lahn said. Fowler wasn't sure what was in her eyes—it was always difficult to read Vulcans—but it looked like real concern. Maybe even sadness or fear.

"It's complicated," was all McCoy offered before Kirk's voice came from somewhere further down the passageway. "Bones! Come on! What's the hold up?"

"On my way, Jim!" he called back. The doctor gently repositioned V'Rha'lahn's arm before heading after the captain. Fowler stepped into the broken doorway, but stopped when he realized V'Rha'lahn wasn't moving. "Aren't you coming?"

"You heard the Fik-Zhel-Lan say he thought the infant might be hidden somewhere in the Cathedral, perhaps even in this room."

"Yeah, but—we don't know if it's here, or if it's even alive. We don't know what's going on, and the only way to find out is to keep up. Come on. If the others get too far ahead, we'll lose them."

"_I_ am going to look for the child," V'Rha'lahn began methodically searching through the crates with a grim expression. "You can do as you wish."

Fowler was unsure what to do. He could stay with her, out of harm's way, searching for an infant who might not even be there, or he could follow Kirk. There was an exciting, intriguing story winding around the captain and his group right now, and if Fowler could get an exclusive first-hand account for his news service, it would make his career—and his supervisors might even overlook the apparent loss of the JJ-2009. "I've got to go," he said. She ignored him as he rushed after Kirk and the others.

V'Rha'lahn pulled the face from one of the larger crates, the packing material spilling around her feet and ankles, but found nothing but cold statuettes. Another crate held only long tubes filled with scrolls; a third was filled with artifacts from the prehistoric Brag t'Nesh-kur Haurok (1) on Delta Vega. As each box failed to provide her quarry, despite her Vulcan aesthetic, V'Rha'lahn felt nagging frustration at the back of her mind, and the fear-like desperation still carried in the most ancient part of the brain of every Vulcan. She looked around her and counted the crates: thirty-seven, that she could see. She could open each, one at a time, or calm herself and think of a more efficient way to tackle the process. Taking in a slow breath, she cleared her mind.

* * *

The discourse over the _V'tosh ka'tur_ continued. At this stage, the few remaining speakers had little to add, seemingly only interested in getting their opinions entered into the official record. Seasoned diplomats knew this last-minute tactic was a part of every conclave, and sat patiently through the process. Other delegates, however, who felt the protracted monologs were narcissistic and pointless, were starting to fidget in their chairs, restless to move on to other matters. Sarek was gratified to see Sybok leaning back in his seat, seemingly serene, smiling, sometimes listening as one of his delegates whispered something to him, but otherwise politely allowing the other Sects to have their say, even when what said was in direct opposition to his own purpose and standing.

When the last speaker finished, T'Lale said, "We have heard an accounting from every Sect on the reinstatement of the citizenship of the _V'tosh ka'tur_. All debate on the matter is now closed." She turned to Sybok, "The Chamber will listen to any closing statement you may wish to make, Delegate Sybok, before the final votes are cast."

Unusually restrained, Sybok rose from his chair at the head of his delegation. He looked at his people and smiled at them before addressing the Chamber. "I believe the discourse on this subject has gone on long enough, T'Sai T'Lale, and there is little more to add to either side of the argument, so my closing will be brief." He grinned at the room, adding, "Besides, some of the younger delegates are starting to doze off and I don't want them sleeping during the voting process. Mild chuckles from the Humans, and some silent nods from the Vulcans answered his grin. "I would like to say, however, that the _V'tosh ka'tur_ are grateful to the Triumvirate and to the Sects of New Vulcan for your willingness, on this day, to allow us, once the banished and bereft, the opportunity to speak to you. Moreover," he said, his body relaxed, his hands open, his expression benevolent, "we appreciate your willingness to _listen_ to us, to _hear_ us with your minds and spirits. By opening yourselves to us, you acknowledge, not simply in the legal sense, but in the sense of brotherhood, our oneness within the _k'war'ma'khon_. You recognize our shared heritage, our shared destiny, and our shared hopes. In doing so, you lose your fear. Today, you have demonstrated the essential wisdom deeply rooted in all Vulcans: a logic which overcomes trepidation and bias and habit. Today, the substance of your words has taken into account the substance of our shared reality: we are an endangered species, and in order to survive, we must unite as a people—whatever our personal philosophies—and endure.

"In the dark hour which is etched into the consciousness of every Vulcan, Nero of Romulus may have extinguished our home world and the majority of our loved ones, but with that action, he also ignited within the survivors a blazing will to carry on which shines brighter than any star in the galaxy; and we who were spared, we, the people of New Vulcan, will _not_ be so easy to _put out_."

Applause met those words, and Sybok waited, quiet and patient until the swell subsided.

"We now find ourselves on the cusp of social and philosophical transition," he continued. "Although a legacy of separatism and segregation was passed onto us by those previously in control of the Vulcan government, we, their inheritors, have an opportunity to _choose_ how we will deal with that legacy _before_ we pass it on to our children. Today, through your willingness to listen, you indicate your choice will be a well-informed and well-reasoned one. We cannot ask for anything more. Let us go forward, therefore, my fellow Vulcans, my extended family, in strength and resolve, to sustain and preserve the Vulcan race, and to provide for the children of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, the _Taluhk Tan _(2), a world of peace, equality, promise and unity." (3)

As Sybok settled into his chair, bright applause cascaded from all around the Chamber. Behind him, his delegates came to their feet, and Sarek leaned over and said over the din, "Well done, my son."

"Not too flowery, Father?"

"Perhaps, a little," Sarek granted, and Sybok laughed.

* * *

Finding Medical Whites for Security Chief Prince was difficult, given his muscular bulk, but Christine was able to dig up something that fit him, if snugly. She then assisted Spock with the hovering EMU bed he insisted on taking as a mobile prop. (4) Along with the normal inventory of medicines, Nu-skin spray, and sterile field generators, the shallow cabinets in the lower part of the bed's frame now held a variety of small weapons, the teams' sanitized EV suits, and several hyposprays filled with neuro-neutralizers.

"You're loaded for bear," Christine remarked. When Spock cocked his head questioningly, she explained, "It's Earth slang. In the ancient days, what you packed into a musket depended on the size of the animal you wanted to shoot. When you loaded your gun _'for bear,'_ it meant you were packing a large charge of gunpowder, making yourself ready for a worst case scenario."

"Better safe than sorry," Cho remarked, adjusting the collar on her lab coat.

"Right," Christine nodded.

"One might have simply said that in the first place," Spock said, and the women chuckled.

"So, what _are_ our goals, Commander?" Davis asked.

"We have been cut off from our Away Team by an alien forcefield; regulations _require_ we reestablish contact. The Cathedral is full of Vulcan women who are experiencing difficult pregnancies; that fact gives us a plausible pretext on which to enter the structure under the semblance of a medical team. Once inside, our first priority is to locate and ascertain the status of Captain Kirk. After that, we will proceed, as necessary, to assist the Fik-Zhel-Lan. Any questions?"

"None of you know any medical jargon," Christine pointed out to him. "If you're confronted with a medical question, what are you going to do? Wait until one of you finds an answer on a PADD?"

"I take it you have a suggestion, Nurse Chapel."

"Absolutely. Let me come with you."

"No way," Security Chief Prince said. "This is a _security_ operation."

"A security operation in a _medical_ guise," she reminded him, and returned her attention to Spock. "I met the members of the Triumvirate when they came aboard the _Enterprise_, and I'm the duty nurse assigned to about thirty pregnant women on the planet, including those among the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation. They'll recognize me, which will give credence to your impersonation of a medical team responding to a pregnancy-related emergency. If you're asked any medical questions, I can give immediate answers. So, Commander," Christine crossed her arms over her chest and gave Spock a self-assured and lighthearted smile, "go ahead. Tell me my logic is sound."

Spock had raised an eyebrow at her, but reluctantly conceded. "Very well. You may accompany us. However, you are to remain out of harm's way. Should any violent altercation erupt, you are to seek shelter and follow my orders, and those of Security Chief Prince, to the letter."

"I understand, Commander."

"Just stick close to me," Prince said, nudging her a bit.

Christine chuckled at him, but, in truth, she found the whole undercover scheme very exciting. As they headed through the city gates toward the courtyard in front of the Cathedral, it was difficult not to grin, until she and the rest of the team were out in the mid-afternoon heat for a few minutes, and Spock kept their pace to a quick jog. Christine knew Vulcans craved warmth, but it was almost too much for the Humans to tolerate even for a short period. Prince and Davis started sweating through their scrubs and looking flushed after about a hundred paces; Christine feared they might succumb to heat exhaustion. So, she and the others were grateful when Spock came to a halt between two buildings near the heart of Svitan'Kahr, and let them rest in the shadows for a few moments.

On their way from the bivouacs, the team had come across a handful of pedestrians, most of who gave them a quick glance and seemed to dismiss them as precisely what they pretended to be: a medical team on the way to an emergency. Spock's ploy seemed to be working well, or so Christine thought.

Just as they started into the Cathedral's courtyard, however, they encountered Ste've hustling toward the building from another direction with a stack of PADDs in his arms. He glanced at them, proceeded forward a few steps then stopped in his tracks. Spock slowed his group to a halt, and waited as the intern paused and then turned slowly to them.

"Busted," Cho muttered under her breath.

"Not necessarily," Davis whispered. "That guy's never seen us before; he doesn't know we're not orderlies."

"Please, we are totally busted."

"Will you two shut up?" Prince ordered quietly as Ste've approached them with a puzzled look on his face. He may not have recognized the security guards, but he had recognized Spock, and that seemed to be the source of his confusion: his mind apparently couldn't reconcile the medical scrubs and Spock's appearance in them.

Frowning slightly, Ste've gazed at him for several seconds, "Commander Spock —?"

"Told you. Busted," Cho muttered to Davis.

* * *

It was all Kirk could do to keep up with the Vulcans in the labyrinth. He didn't dare fall behind or he'd get lost; so despite the Vulcans' speed and the heavier gravity pulling on every muscle in his body, he forced himself to keep the pace. He was surprised how quickly T'Pau could move. Even at her age, and with some kind of injury—he'd found the bloody, partial handprint she'd left behind on the wall in one of the narrower passageways—she had remarkable speed and agility, whipping around corners, slipping through narrow openings he thought only a rat could manage. He supposed if he had an angry Sa'aat on his heels, he'd move with as much speed as possible, too.

He understood Sa'aat's single-minded persistence when it came to T'Pau and her criminal behavior: the policeman in Sa'aat wouldn't let her get away. But he also knew the Fik-Zhel-Lan's motivation revolved around Spock and whatever relationship Sa'aat had with him. The captain knew Sa'aat was physically attracted to Spock, but whatever else they shared seemed to go much deeper. Kirk had no doubt that Sa'aat would lay down his life for Spock—and would _kill_ for him, as well, if a reason presented itself, and Sa'aat could kill in ways Kirk couldn't begin to imagine.

The captain admitted, that part of him wanted T'Pau severely punished for what she had done to Spock. But another part of him, the greater part, the part he had inherited from his father, George, and that Admiral Pike had recognized within him on the first day they'd met, knew the woman deserved justice, a right to due process, regardless of her crimes. James T. Kirk couldn't stand by and watch Sa'aat execute T'Pau in the street like a rabid animal... but he wasn't sure how he was going to stop Sa'aat from doing just that.

* * *

At his security station, Sionak listened to the vote on the reinstatement of citizenship for the _V'tosh ka'tur_ while watching the displays on his security station monitor, easily splitting his concentration between the two without confusion.

His equipment, like Sa'aat's, was unaffected by the containment field, and he was able to maintain a visual on Sa'aat... and on Captain Kirk and his personnel... and on Commander Spock and _his_ group as they moved below and through the city. Sa'aat had given him a direct order not to interfere with the pursuit of T'Pau, and Sionak was bound by his oaths and duty to obey that order. As Kirk had pointed out, however, Sa'aat had given the noninterference order to _Sionak_, not to Kirk or Spock, so Sionak was willing to allow them to go where he himself could not, even though he knew his reasoning was little more than specious subterfuge.

When Spock's team had breached the containment field in the sewage conduit, Sionak had stifled any alarm that would have alerted Sa'aat or his own personnel to the intrusion. Further, he had placed only minimal security on the room where Kirk and his team had been incarcerated after their arrest, hoping they would find a way to let themselves out, or that Spock's group would free them. It had been surprising when the woman, V'Rha'lahn, went to their aid, Sionak admitted, but her involvement had little impact on anything he had set in motion, so he did nothing to stop her either.

Now, his monitor was full of movement. Streaming video showed him images of Sa'aat chasing T'Pau through the labyrinth of passageways under the Cathedral; a smaller section of the screen followed Kirk and his group; a third followed Spock; and a fourth showed V'Rha'lahn in one of the alcove rooms. At the same time, a detailed schematic in the right corner of the screen, displayed all the streets, alleys and passageways involved, with Sa'aat and the others designated by colorful moving blips.

Watching Sa'aat's bright-green blip, Sionak marveled, as he often did, at his commander's ingenuity. Through his communicator, Sa'aat, who knew all of the passageways by heart, fed Sionak which doors to lock and which ones to keep open, or which defensive systems to stifle and which ones to arm, in order to herd T'Pau in the direction he wanted her to go. He was forcing her up through the labyrinth, and seeing to it that she would have to exit into an alleyway alongside the Cathedral—where Sionak would have a phalanx of guards posted as soon as Sa'aat authorized their deployment.

As Sionak watched his monitor, T'Lale call for the Sects to cast their final vote. The _V'tosh ka'tur_ Sect was not allowed to participate in this part of the process; so, from the twelve remaining Sects, at least eight were going to have to vote "yes" in order to give Sybok the two-thirds majority he needed for his group to remain as viable members of the New Vulcan Council. In the unlikely event of a tie, the Triumvirate itself would cast the deciding vote.

T'Lale addressed each Sect individually, taking them in alphabetical order so no one could claim she was showing bias, and called upon each leader to speak for his or her group. "Gilrana of the _El-Dvelan Whl'q'n_, how vote thee?"

Gilrana, a distant cousin of Gilgreni of the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation, did not rise from her chair, but said simply, "_Ha_."

One "yes" vote for reinstatement; Sionak kept the tally in his head.

"Sarek of the _Fonn Vuhlkansu_, how vote thee?"

"_Ha_," Sarek said firmly, and Sionak watched Sybok nod appreciatively.

"Solat of the _K'torr Tong'av_, how vote thee?"

"_Ha_."

It was a good start; three in favor of reinstatement, and none against.

"Stalan of the _Leshar Shasol-Kethtra_, how vote thee?"

"_Ri_," Stalan said without looking up. A "no" vote from that sect didn't surprise Sionak. The _Leshar_ was a traditionalist sect that had taken in former ministers T'Pessmar, Ne'Milk, and Teylon, after they were removed from office. Their hard-line stance to anything that upset the old order was entirely expected.

"Serrel of the _Shakhu_, how vote thee?"

"_Ri_."

"T'Kayash of the _Sular t'Tvi-Latva_, how vote thee?"

"_Ha_."

Four to two.

Through the monitor, Sionak heard Sa'aat give the command, "_Haulat, _gol-tor." _(Haulat, assist.) _Sionak activated another part of the screen, and watched the _Haulat_ shimmer to life inside its hanger, open the flight-doors in the ceiling, lift off, and then cloak itself.

T'Lale continued, "Smeck of the _Sutra t'Kash-to-vel_, how vote thee?"

"_Ri_."

"T'Zaya of the _Torai-Svitan_, how vote thee?"

"_Ha_," T'Zaya answered with a deep bow in Sybok's direction. He smiled and winked at her.

"Ambassador McCormick of the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs, how vote thee?"

The Ambassador rose to her feet and ceremoniously bowed to the Triumvirate, before saying, "Speaking on behalf of the United Federation of Planets and the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs, we vote, yes, _ha_." No one seemed impressed by her practiced performance, but the vote was tallied just the same.

"T'Roik of the _Uzh Ar'Kadan_, how vote thee?"(5)

"_Ri_."

There were two votes left. If the two votes were cast in Sybok's favor, the majority would be his and the _V'tosh ka'tur_ would win their bid for reinstatement. If the votes split, one for and one against, Sybok would not have the numbers he needed to prevail, and he and his people would have to leave the Cathedral. But if both of the remaining votes went against him, a tie would result, six for reinstatement, and six against... and the Triumvirate would be called upon to intercede.

* * *

T'Pau didn't have time to squelch the flow of blood from the back of her head and shoulder where shards from the door had struck her when it exploded. Like all head wounds, hers bled a good deal, and the blood oozed hot down her neck and back, but the damage was superficial. Vulcan skulls were exceptionally hard, and it would take a lot more than a chip of stone to inflict serious injury, so she ignored it and kept moving, even though she knew Sa'aat was manipulating her path, forcing her to go in a direction only he could specify. She had no doubt a trap lay at the end of her route, but what choice did she have? With Sa'aat on her heels, it was move or die. She hoped that whatever Sa'aat had done to disrupt communications and jam her homing beacon, which was currently keeping her confederates from beaming her from the planet, didn't extend beyond the Cathedral itself.

Sa'aat had thwarted her original plan to escape the planet's surface when most of the population would be fixated on the Council Meeting, and most of the security force would be focused on the Formal Chamber—at least for the time being. She decided that once outside of the labyrinth, she would head toward the Cathedral's courtyard, and, if possible, toward the shuttle port. From there, she would have more options, more avenues of escape, and it would be more difficult for Sa'aat to contain her.

She had a disruptor pistol, but was reluctant to use it while inside the labyrinth. As much as she hated to admit it, Sa'aat was a brilliant security officer. While under Semuk's command, he had deployed a defensive mechanism that shut down every energy weapon in, and around, the Medical Facility when a phaser was accidentally discharged indoors. On another occasion, he had used subsonic waves, channeled through an intercom system, to paralyze the crew of a Ferengi cargo ship trying to filch a load of Vulcan brandy from the city's shuttle port. She had no doubt that Sa'aat had set up intriguing gizmos all over the Cathedral and throughout Svitan'Kahr, and she did not want to accidentally trigger one and thereby play a part in her own capture. So, she kept a hand on the butt of her weapon, but did not draw it.

* * *

Kirk's heart raced, and his pulse pounded in his ears. If Sa'aat and T'Pau didn't let up soon, he was going to vomit from the exertion. Scotty and McCoy, huffed and groaned behind him, as the chase continued and their bodies started to give out under the fierce pace. Part of him wished T'Pau would trip over something so they could finish this, but he also knew Vulcans weren't that clumsy.

At the end of his second year as a cadet, he had participated in a relay race between students and instructors at the Academy. It had been a cool morning; there had been fog earlier, but it had lifted and left the air moist and bracing. Kirk had finished his leg of the race and had passed the baton on to Peter Turner, their team's ringer, a hurdling champion. (6) The students were winning, ahead of the instructors by a good two-and-a-half lengths, and Kirk was grinning as he trotted to a halt along the sidelines where McCoy was waiting for him with a towel and a bottle of vitamin water.

"We are golden!" Kirk announced, rubbing his face and neck down with the towel.

"Looks that way," said McCoy.

As Kirk took a long swig from the water bottle, a female voice from behind McCoy said, "Don't count your chicken salad before it's replicated, cadet." He looked over to find Uhura walking up to them with her green-skinned Orion friend, Gaila, at her side.

"Helloooo, ladies."

"Hello, yourself, Mister Kirk," Gaila giggled.

"You know me?"

"Everyone knows you, Kirk," Uhura told him with a wry smile, "and that isn't necessarily a compliment, so wipe that pompous grin off your face."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, but kept grinning.

The women were in their Cadet Reds, but Gaila also wore a decidedly non-regulation hair-band with a pair of sparkly balls mounted on spring-like antenna that bobbled and swayed whenever she moved.

"Cute," McCoy gestured toward the antenna.

"They're supposed to help keep your eyes on my face instead of my breasts," Gaila told him.

"They don't work."

Gaila laughed and hit McCoy playfully on the shoulder.

"You don't think we're going to win?" Kirk asked, attempting to pull the women's attention back to him. "Turner's the best hurdler we've got."

"The race isn't over yet," Uhura said.

Gaila wrapped an arm around McCoy's waist and said, "Her box-hugger's in there somewhere."(7)

"He is not my _'box-hugger.'_ And who taught you that ridiculously obscene phrase anyway?"

"Sean Finnegan." (8)

At the sound of the upper classman's name, Uhura rolled her eyes, saying, "Should have known," and Kirk made a gagging gesture with his finger inside of his mouth that made Gaila giggle all the more.

"I take it, you don't like the guy," said McCoy.

"What's there to like? Finnegan's a merciless jerk."

"Really? Wouldn't that make you two perfect for each other?" Uhura teased.

"Jim can't handle the competition," McCoy explained.

Kirk made a rude noise, and looked back toward the track where Mrs. Eddleton, the Environmental Sciences instructor, now struggled to pass her baton to the next instructor in line: a tall man covered in a blue fleece running suit and hoodie. "What's he dressed for? A mugging?"

"—Just doesn't like the cool temperature here in San Francisco," Uhura said.

"All that extra weight is just going to slow him down."

"Don't count on it."

"Wanna bet?"

"Name it."

"Fifty bucks."

"You're on."

All Kirk saw was a flash of pale skin and dark bangs as the runner snatched the baton from Eddleton and took off in a long-legged sprint. He'd never seen anyone cover so much ground so quickly. The two-and-a-half lengths were made up within a matter of minutes, and then the hooded runner was heading toward the final stretch of hurdles, shoulder-to-shoulder with Turner.

"You've have your ringer, and the instructors have theirs," Uhura said into Kirk's ear. "He's Vulcan. Plyometrics are a part of their everyday self-conditioning routine. Turner doesn't stand a chance."

The grin wilted from Kirk's face as the Vulcan sprung over the hurdles, one after the other, with the flexibility, strength and agility of a gazelle. Turner's face went tight with exertion and frustration as the hooded man began to pass him. Turner showed his teeth, pressing for more power to keep up. Unfortunately, he clipped one of the hurdles with the toe of his shoe and lost some of his momentum. That was enough to put the hooded man in the lead.

Along the sidelines, the instructors were jumping up and down, cheering. Kirk saw Captain Pike and his aid on the other side of the track making circling movements in the air with their fists as they shouted to the hooded runner, _"Hal'uh, hal'uh, hal'uh!"_ (9)

"So—do you have the fifty bucks on you, or am I going to have to wait for it?" Uhura asked him…

Unexpectedly, the passage in front of the captain flooded with brilliant light, as T'Pau shoved open a door and raced into the afternoon sunlight with Sa'aat behind her. The Vulcans' inner eyelids protected their eyes from the sudden glare, but Kirk was momentarily blinded. "Damn it," he growled as he stumbled out into an alley beyond the door, his hands in front of him, trying to blink black sun-splotches off of his retinas.

He heard Sa'aat say, "_Haulat_, be'lamok. Sionak, s'sak-tor latva-kel ash—bek-tor weht zek," but had no idea what that meant, which added to his frustration. Nevertheless, he kept moving, feeling as Turner must have felt during that last leg of the relay race as his brain tried to orient him within the context of his new circumstances, knowing he might not win, while it also puzzled on what to do next. (10)

* * *

When Sa'aat's command came through his station, Sionak immediately motioned to another security guard to take his place at the podium, and proceeded quickly, soundlessly, out of the Chamber toward the main doors of the Cathedral. Along the way, the rest of his elite security team joined him, all armed with phasers, _ahn'wuns_ and _lirpas_. (11) He missed the closing votes on the status of the _V'tosh ka'tur_.

* * *

"Commander Spock, this is _very_ irregular," Ste've said. "Why are you here? And why are you masquerading as a doctor?"

"There is no time to go into detail," Spock told him.

"I should advise security—"

"Is your equipment working?"

"Of course it is. Why would it not be? I carry communiqués and data for the Triumvirate; everything has to be accessible to them at all times."

Immediately picking up on the cue, Prince tried to snag one of the PADD's from the stack in Ste've's arms. "Let me have a look at one of those, will you, son?"

"_Ri'uh!_" (12) Ste've turned his whole body away from Prince to shield the PADDs, and his momentum caused the topmost PADD to slide off the stack and rattle to the ground. As he bent to retrieve it before Prince could touch it, Spock delivered a firm _to'tsu'k'hy_ to his neck, and set his unconscious body down gently on the pavement. (13)

"Neat," said Cho.

"Someday, you're going to have to teach us how to do that, Commander," Davis added as Prince grabbed the PADD and tried searching it for any information on Kirk's whereabouts.

"I have _tried_, Mister Davis," Spock glanced quickly around him.

Christine ran her medical scanner over the intern to make sure he was all right, but her equipment was still scrambled by the containment field. "This isn't telling me anything," she said. "Are you sure he's going to be all right?"

"The effect is temporary," Spock assured her. "Help me get him onto the EMU."

"We're going to carry him with us, sir?" Cho asked.

"We cannot leave him lying in the middle of the street, Ensign." As Cho and Spock hoisted Ste've's limp body onto the hover bed, and Christine covered him from head to foot with a sheer blanket, Spock asked, "Having difficulties, Mister Prince?"

"Just give me a second to adjust the language setting, sir—" Prince grimaced, banging the side of the PADD with his hand. Spock reached over, tapped the screen in two places with his index finger, and the language on it switched from Golic Vulcan to Federation Standard. Looking sheepish, Prince said, "Thank you, sir," and continued his search for the captain, as Spock drew a phaser from the cabinet in the base of the EMU, and Cho and Davis did the same.

"Hold it, Commander," Prince said after they'd taken only a few steps toward the Cathedral.

When the Chief didn't elaborate, Spock looked back at him and prompted, "Yes, Chief?"

Prince scowled at the PADD, then looked up to answer him. "If I'm reading this right, both Sa'aat and Captain Kirk are heading straight for us, sir."

Spock searched the surrounding buildings but did not see anything. "Location."

"They're about forty-five meters in that direction, sir." Prince pointed to where a small alley along the side of the Cathedral opened into the courtyard, next to the Cathedral steps. "Coming up fast. There's someone ahead of them, a Vulcan female... and it looks like... maybe Doctor McCoy and Engineer Scott behind them, too, if I'm reading the signatures correctly."

"He is flushing her out," Spock said, more to himself than to his team.

Prince added, "I'm also reading a group of eight Vulcans heading this way from inside the Cathedral, Commander."

"Company's coming," Davis remarked. "With the courtyard as open as it is, we don't have much in the way of cover."

Spock looked at Christine and ordered, "Back in between the buildings; take the EMU with you. Ensign Cho, see that she complies." Christine pursed her lips but did as Spock told her, with Cho covering her as she exited into the shade between the buildings again with the hover bed in tow. She had the odd feeling something was different about the shady area. It felt larger and darker than it had previously, but she immediately dismissed the sensation as little more than a trick played on her eyes by the intensity of the New Vulcan sun.

As soon as Spock felt they were secure, he made a sprint toward the Cathedral steps, saying over his shoulder to his team, "Shoot to stun. I want no fatalities."

"Aye, sir," Davis promised as he and Prince struggled, once again, to match their Commander's speed.

* * *

As T'Pau rounded the corner to the front of the Cathedral, she saw a medical team rushing in her direction, seemingly responding to an emergency inside, but then she realized they had weapons drawn and that the lead person was a Vulcan, one whom she immediately recognized. "Spock," she mumbled, her face rippling with contempt at the sight of him, and she drew her disruptor.

"Get down!" Spock shouted to his team as he caught a glimpse of the weapon before its muzzle flared to life. The beam scorched the air in front of him as he twisted his body severely to the right to avoid being hit. However, it struck Davis squarely in his chest, and his entire body glowed bright green before quickly disintegrating, leaving only the echo of his pain-filled cry.

"Davis!" Cho screamed, rushing into the courtyard. Prince dove at Spock to try to shield him with his body as T'Pau fired again, and her weapon was answered by phaser blasts from both Cho and Prince. None of the beams hit their targets, however. Just as T'Pau's finger squeezed off the shot, she was struck full bore by a psychokinetic blast from Sa'aat's mind that threw her sideways and knocked the weapon from her hand. The beam from it seared through the air but didn't strike anything. At the same instant, the discharge from the Starfleet officers' weapons impacted with the kinetic flare and dissipated over it like melting butter.

When T'Pau made a grab for her fallen disruptor, another mind-flare from Sa'aat smashed it, spreading the bits across the cobblestones in front of her. Even with all of her Vulcan control, she was unable to keep the shock from her face in that instant.

As if on cue, the doors of the Cathedral opened and Sionak and his phalanx of guards streamed out, their lirpas glinting wickedly in the afternoon sun. Sionak immediately took in the scene unfolding in front of him, and addressed it with practiced calm. Instead of advancing on T'Pau, he remained where he was, making a single waving gesture to his troops. They spread out and filtered down into the courtyard creating an arch-shaped barrier that blocked T'Pau's main route toward the distant shuttle port. Kirk and his group stumbled into the courtyard, blinking against the sunlight, shading their eyes with their hands, Fowler bringing up the rear. Kirk had the phaser V'Rha'lahn had procured for him in hand, but didn't fire. He saw T'Pau was now disarmed and effectively surrounded: Spock and his team in front of her, Sionak to her rear, Sa'aat to her left with Kirk and his group lingering slightly behind him, and the armed guards to her right.

Still on the ground, T'Pau rolled onto her feet. She was obviously shaken, but she forced herself upright. Sa'aat continued across the courtyard toward Spock, the air around him warping and undulating as waves of energy radiated from his psyche. Kirk could almost hear the power of Sa'aat's mind humming around him, like the distant drone of bees, and he had to admit it frightened him. When the Vulcans had landed in Montana on that fateful day of First Contact, there were groups of xenophobes who claimed they couldn't be trusted, because they had abilities and powers they deliberately kept hidden from Humans—and here was proof. What had V'Rha'lahn called it? The _eschak_: the killing gift. Kirk had never seen anything like it... and he was pretty sure none of the others had either.

T'Pau kept the front of her body facing Sa'aat, but her eyes went to Spock, who returned her stare with a seemingly emotionless one of his own; although, somewhere behind those dark, solid eyes, she believed, lurked the deep humiliation and rage she could evoke within him. He leveled his phaser at her heart, and as he did so, Cho and Prince trained their weapons on her as well. "Surrender," he said.

She gave the weapons a dismissive smirk. "You will not fire upon me, Spock. It is not within you to kill me."

"Considering our history, madam, it may be unwise to put that particular theory to the test."

"Okay," Kirk said, hoping to de-escalate the situation. "She's unarmed now and surrounded. There isn't anywhere she can go. Let's... everybody, let's just turn off the theatrics and take her into custody. Okay? Before anyone else gets hurt."

None of the Vulcans responded. Sionak and his guards maintained their grip on their weapons, and Spock kept his phaser aimed at T'Pau, while she and Sa'aat continued their silent tête-à- tête. As Sa'aat crossed the courtyard, heading toward Spock, T'Pau's body turned to face him, in much the same way the Earth's moon turned on its axis to always keep its face to the planet. Sa'aat squared his shoulders; she raised her chin to counter him. He tilted his head to look at her from under his black, sweeping eyebrows; T'Pau folded her hands in front of her to apparently demonstrate she wasn't intimidated by his stare. Each move was slow, oddly elegant, deliberate, and completely silent. With each step, each echoing movement, each shift in position, the tension between them continued to build.

"They're going to obliterate each other, Jim," McCoy murmured.

"If you've got any suggestions, Bones, I'm open to listening to them," Kirk whispered back.

McCoy shook his head and shrugged, then stepped forward a pace and called out, "Sa'aat. She's obviously injured. I can see the blood from here. At least allow me to give her some medical attention."

"Are you in pain and in need of assistance, _ko-eshu'a_?" Sa'aat asked T'Pau, his voice distorted, echoing within the confines of the energy field he had generated around himself.

She reached into the back of her dark hair, brought her hand around and ran her bloodied fingers across her forehead and down the side of her cheek. It was an ancient gesture, not used since before the time of Surak: a ritual sign of contempt in the face of an enemy. Sa'aat narrowed his eyes at her, and the psychokinetic field around him constricted slightly, as she felt the scratch of his mind along the inside of her skull, like long claws, dragging and sharpening themselves against her bone. She grimaced internally, but said nothing.

"They're not going to stop," McCoy said. "Not until one or both of them are dead."

Kirk nodded, so he tried a different tack. If he could remove Spock from the mix, maybe T'Pau and Sa'aat would be more inclined to listen to reason. "Mister Spock, I order you to stand down."

Spock didn't immediately acknowledge the command. Although his hand was steady, his grip was firm, and his face was a mask of contained calm, he was having difficulty. His increased breath rate was the only indicator that being near T'Pau had set off a psychological whirlwind within him. Fragments of physical memory and unconscious remembrances, like bits of jagged glass tipped with venom, churned inside his head and body, ripping into him, filling him with toxic emotions and dark seething pain. He could barely concentrate, and found it hard to set his logic against the instinct that insisted he either fight or flee. Dr. Surrey would have called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. But knowing the clinical term for it didn't diminish the sensation or limit the damage it was doing.

Spock swallowed hard, kneading the butt of his phaser, hoping the alternative stimuli would distract his brain enough to allow him to squelch the ugly impressions and obey his captain's command. When that failed, he sent another part of his mind outside of himself, to Nyota.

* * *

Nyota paused in her attempts to breach the containment barrier with a communications signal, and sat back in her seat for a moment. Her mind was suddenly suffused with images of Spock: standing at Swahn's cribside illuminated in soft blue light, the gentle and accepting father she always knew he could be; his hair rumpled from their night together, his eyes smiling for her when the rest of his features hid everything he felt.

The air was filled with the heady, carnal incense of the red-spice-and-frankincense scent of him, and she felt the electric tingle of his psi-touch against her skin and her consciousness, poised and expectant, but uncertain. She touched the curve of the tiny compass pinned inside of her bra, and said, "Spock?" aloud without realizing it.

* * *

"_K'diwa_," Spock muttered, finding himself enveloped in the pollen-like fragrance of Nyota's intimacy and the lavender hint of her perfume. He closed his eyes and took a long breath, drawing her deep inside: her affection, her unconditional acceptance of everything he was, her unflappable, quiet determination, her courage and dedication. Her fortifying essence filled the spaces within that had been carved raw by the whirlwind, and against the granite core of her feminine strength, the storm ground itself down, lost its impetus, and dissipated. When he opened his eyes again, and breathed out, Spock was able to look at T'Pau and remember— without the pain.

"Spock," Kirk said again. "Lower your weapon and withdraw. That's an _order_."

The Vulcan glanced at his captain, then looked at the weapon in his own hand, and let it fall to his side. "Acknowledged," he said, taking a few steps back, placing himself between Cho and Prince.

"You're outnumbered and unarmed," the captain said to T'Pau. "Give yourself up, and I'll make sure you're provided with due process."

"You have no authority here, Captain," T'Pau sneered.

"Sa'aat will relinquish jurisdiction to the Federation in this matter if you surrender now."

Sa'aat raised an eyebrow. "Will I?"

"In the interest of peace and justice, yes, you will."

The Fik-Zhel-Lan tilted his head, and the distortion caused by the energy field around him lessened considerably. "If nothing else, this experiment should prove interesting," he said, letting the _eschak_ bubble dissipate completely.

"T'Pau to the _S'harien Aidoann_," T'Pau said immediately, "Emergency transport."

Kirk looked up, as did some of the others, to see if anyone or anything would answer her. No one did.

"The containment field extends to the outskirts of the city," Sa'aat said. "All communication and transportability are blocked. It is interesting, however, for me to note that no vessel with the call-name _S'harien Aidoann_ is listed on the registry of _Vulcan_ ships. And since my scanners—which have not been impaired by the forcefield—have, as yet, been unable to discern any incursion into New Vulcan space by any _unregistered_ vessel, I must assume the _S'harien Aidoann_ is either currently out of range, or is cloaked."

"Only a handful of races have advanced cloaking technology," Spock added. "The Suliban Cabal, the Klingons to a lesser extent, and the Romulans."

"And the Coh'Lie, of course," Sa'aat reminded him.

"Yes, osu. However, I assumed they would be wholly disinclined to assist T'Pau in this, or any other matter, and therefore excluded them from the list of possible conspirators."

"Quite logical." Sa'aat turned his attention back to T'Pau. "So, the question that remains, madam, is: with which of those aforementioned groups have you aligned yourself?"

"I admit to nothing," she said.

"Irrelevant. I do not need any further admissions or confessions from you to prosecute you. Even the Federation will recognize your crimes of false imprisonment, theft, battery, conspiracy, resisting arrest, murder, attempted murder..."

T'Pau interrupted him. "When my allies are unable to contact me, they _will_ respond with force to retrieve me."

"If that were true, madam," Spock said, "they would have already done so."

"And yet we see them not," Sa'aat added. "Perhaps your allies have deserted you."

"Not so," T'Pau countered. "There are more with me than you can see, Sa'aat; more who follow me than you will ever know."

"Pardon me, but there seems to be little evidence to sustain your assertion."

"Is this evidence enough?" Ste've shouted from the edge of the courtyard. He emerged from the shadows with Christine trapped in the vice-like grip of one of his hands, and a phaser set to kill in the other. Without warning or provocation, he fired directly at Spock. It was Ensign Cho who took the brunt of the discharge, however, as both she and Prince lurched in front of Spock to protect him. Even at their distance, Kirk's group could smell the ozone left behind by the weapon's energy and the scent of Cho's charred flesh. She hit the ground, her side smoldering. Prince fired back, but his shot was deflected by Spock who shoved his arm up at the last second, so the beam burned over Christine's head, but didn't strike anything.

"Mr. Spock!"

"No fatalities, Mr. Prince. As you were."

"But, sir!"

In response, Ste've tugged Christine closer to his body, using her as a living shield, and leveled his phaser at her head. "Drop all weapons," he demanded as he strode into the courtyard, heading toward T'Pau. "Drop all weapons, or this Human dies."

"This action is futile," Spock told him. "With the forcefield in place, there is no escape. You are simply delaying the inevitable."

Ste've fired at one of Sioank's guards, sending him to the ground, and then leveled the weapon once more at Christine's head. "Drop. All. Weapons," he enunciated each word.

Kirk, Spock and Prince all set their phasers down onto the ground and kicked them aside, but Sionak's guards seem less inclined to capitulate. Their eyes collectively followed Ste've as he crab-walked across the courtyard, in an arc past Spock, and crossed in front of them on his way to T'Pau's side. Then their eyes went to Sa'aat.

Ste've turned, facing Sa'aat, with Christine in front of him. "I _will_ kill this Human," Ste've warned, his voice quavering a bit in the face of the Fik-Zhel-Lan. "Now, drop the forcefield, and allow us to leave." Sa'aat let a thin smile play at the corners of his mouth, and closed his eyes. Fearing that he might summon up the destructive energy field again, Ste've warned him, "Try nothing! If you gather your force again, I _will_ shoot her."

Sa'aat looked at him. "And after she is dead, what will you do?"

Ste've's eyes widened. He hadn't planned that far in advance.

"I see." Sa'aat's dark eyes then met Christine's wide blue ones, and he said, "Do you trust me, Chapel?"

Despite her fear, she responded, shaking, "Sure."

"_Haulat_."

The ship de-cloaked directly over the buildings where Christine had been hiding with the EMU, and drifted out over the courtyard, extending its shadow outward over everyone below it.

"Careful!" T'Pau cried, but Ste've didn't know what to do to protect them from the ship.

Sa'aat barked, "Sakuvu thorshaya. Reh-leh thonek. I'uh!" (14) The _Haulat's_ skin glistened with a film of bluish energy, and then released it in a sudden blast of stunning, concussive force that knocked everyone onto the ground, senseless. Only Sa'aat, protected by a _ra-de'kutha_ sphere generated by his own mind, remained standing. (15)

He went to Spock first and checked his heart rate and respiration, which were normal. He then checked the others. Cho and the guard who had been fired upon were both dead, but everyone else seemed to be intact, including Nurse Chapel. Sa'aat suspected T'Pau would be one of the first to recover, so he searched through her clothing for the homing beacon transmitter she carried. When he didn't find it, he checked her skin. On her left forearm he located the lump where a small subdermal device had been implanted, and he dug it out with his lipitah, dropped it to the ground, and crushed it under his heel. He then secured T'Pau's wrists and ankles with a pair of binders from the back of his belt, and did the same to Ste've. T'Lale and T'Yelas would have some explaining to do where the young intern was concerned, to be sure, but Sa'aat was willing to wait until after the Council Meeting had run its course to confront them.

Satisfied that he had done all he needed to do for the moment, he went to the Cathedral steps and sat down, finally releasing his weary mind and body to the pervasive fatigue he had been hiding from T'Pau and the others for over an hour. Sighing, holding his head between his hands, he said, "_Haulat_, sadalau fosh-duk. Glashau na'fan-glat t'ek'te'kal-fam stukh-hali. Var-tor nosh eh sakunotau tveshu t'au." _(Haulat, release the containment field. Scan for any evidence of unauthorized space-ships. Report their status, and extrapolate origin.)_

The ship's skin rippled as it disengaged the forcefield; then it cloaked itself and left, its shadow shrinking to a dot on the courtyard floor before disappearing altogether.

* * *

Inside the Formal Chamber, the overhead octagonal screen flickered once, and the reporters realized their headgear was working again. Applause was raining down all around them, and Sybok was busy shaking hands, and patting backs, and thanking those who had stood in support of him.

"And, in case you missed it, ladies and gentlemen," said the female journalist closest to the _V'tosh ka'tur_ delegation, "that was the final tally. The last two votes, from the _Vuhlkansu Na'tikopah_ Sect, also known as the 'Vulcans for Independence,' and the _Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas_ Sect, also known as the 'Followers of the Holy Guardian Spirits,' went in favor of the _V'tosh ka'tur_. Delegate Sybok has the two-thirds majority he needs to have the citizenship of his people fully reinstated, and to get his sect a full seat on the New Vulcan Council. You can hear the reaction from the crowd. The members of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ are obviously delighted..."

Sybok reached across the aisle, clasped Sarek's hand, and shook it fiercely. "Thank you, Father."

"Welcome home, my son."

* * *

"Sa'aat," a female voice called unexpectedly.

He looked up immediately from where he sat on the Cathedral steps, his knees up, his arms crossed over them so he could rest his head against them, and found V'Rha'lahn standing at the far edge of the front of the building. The Cathedral itself had shielded her from the _Haulat's_ stunning blast, but she still seemed disinclined to set foot into the courtyard without Sa'aat's permission. "Advance," he said simply, and put his head down for a few more moments. He sensed, more than saw her come near.

V'Rha'lahn sat down on the step beside him. After a few quiet seconds, she asked, "How long does the effect last?"

He didn't raise his head. "Between fifteen and twenty-two minutes. I will call for reinforcements, and have the prisoners taken into custody shortly."

She nodded and looked around her, then told him, "I searched for the child."

"And what did you find?"

"Nothing. I located the kelbonite she was using, but there was nothing else there."

"I suspected as much."

When he was quiet for several seconds, V'Rha'lahn said, "I heard what you said to her in the labyrinth about the child; she said it was Spock's."

"Yes."

"Tell me how that is possible."

"Nothing good will come from the telling."

"Then I will guess."

Sa'aat turned to face her, "Conjecture without facts is unwise."

She remained steadfast. "During the plak-tau, I was unable to provide Spock with a child, although I very much wanted to give him one; yet, somehow this woman—this _ko-eshu'a_, as you called her—was able to create an offspring born of his blood, which may or may not have survived her treachery. I cannot leave it to her. I must find it, whatever its condition."

"For what purpose?"

"If it lives, I can take it from her."

"To replace the child you yourself could not bear? What good would come from such an effort?"

"I can raise it for him... present it to him..."

"This is not a child born from duty or love, V'Rha'lahn. This was a child born of theft, and pain, and betrayal. If ever Spock looks upon it, that is all he will see: not a gift, but a gruesome, living reminder of his agony and humiliation. He has borne enough these past months; leave him be. Let him heal. Give him a chance to move beyond the ugly memories he associates with this place. Find another way to make him happy."

"As did you, Sa'aat?"

"Yes," Sa'aat nodded, slowly, tired. "As did I."

"You gave up your place with him to that _woman_, that _Human_... as did we all."

"It was not my place to give or take away; it was Spock's. The choice was always his, and he has chosen."

"And are you satisfied now, to be less than you might have been in his heart and mind?"

"To be dissatisfied with what _is_, is illogical. However, as long as I am with him, in whatever capacity he chooses, there is hope."

"For what?"

"For whatever small victories and conditions we can share in the future."

"Then you believe it's better to have a part of a life with Spock, than none at all."

"Yes."

"I do not think I can be content with such an arrangement."

"For his sake, you must find a way," Sa'aat raked some of her hair behind her ear with his finger tips, "and if you are unable, I can help you. I can take away the longing that comes with the sight of him."

"Would _you_ live without it?"

"No."

"Then why should I?"

* * *

(1) **Brag t'Nesh-kur Haurok**: Crypt of the Ravens; or more literally translated from the Vulcan _"Tomb of the Black Birds"._

(2) **Taluhk Tan: **Literally translated from the Vulcan language, it means "precious gift"; the name given to the children born out of the Ek'tevan Prerogative.

(3) **Sybok's speech:** This speech was actually an amalgamation of all sorts of different speeches and quotes on unity and logic by such notables as Sara Harrington, Allen G. Johnson, Martin Luther King, Jr., Albert Einstein, Louise Brandeis, and, of course, Gene Roddenberry. I compressed it all, of course, and then gave it a Vulcan spin; nevertheless, even though the speech is mine and I wrote it, I feel it necessary to acknowledge those who have written and spoken more eloquently on the subject before me.

(4) **EMU Bed:** **E**mergency **M**obile **U**nit bed; a type of all-in-one gurney that includes an emergency resuscitation and defibrillating "crash cart" and an intensive care unit bed; generally referred to as an "emu" (like the big, flightless Australian birds). **Author's note:** the EMU is NOT Trek canon, I made it up myself, based on the modern-day LSTAT and MSTAT beds, and already existing Trek technology. As an aside, my brother Matt heads a company that manufactures LSTAT-type beds for large corporations and military use. Versions of his "Star Trek bed" have also appeared on various TV shows.

(5) **The 13 New Vulcan Sects:** along with the [1] _Fonn Vuhlkansu_ (the "Loyalist Vulcans", a revisionist group) and the [2] _V'tosh ka'tur_ ("Vulcans Without Logic", an extremist group), there are eleven others. The moderate groups include: the [3] Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs (FAVA, the Sect made up of members of the United Federation of Planets), the [4] _Uzh Ar'Kadan_ (the "New Works" sect) and the [5] _Vuhlkansu Na'tikopah_ (the "Vulcans for Independence"). The groups formed by the various mystical societies include: the [6] _K'torr Tong'av _(the "Absence of Adornment"), the [7] _Sular t'Tvi-Latva_ (the "People of the Inner-Encounter") and the [8] _Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas_ (the "Followers of the Holy Guardian Spirits", also known simply as the _Vai Giddas_.) The other revisionist sects include: the [9] _El-Dvelan Whl'q'n_ (the "Free Will Vulcans") and the [10] _Torai-Svitan_ (the "Center of Action" sect). And, finally, the traditionalist sects are: the [11] _Leshar Shasol-Kethtra_ (the "Bearers of the Spoken History"), the [12] _Shakhu_ ("The Elderly") and the [13] _Sutra t'Kash-to-vel_ (the "People of Intellect"). **Author's note:** None of these sects, except for the _V'tosh ka'tur_ are Trek canon. I made them all up myself.

(6) **Turner:** he's named after the modern-day hurdler from Britain, Alex Turner.

(7) **Box Hugger**: Derogatory Irish slang for a "boyfriend", more literally a "vagina lover".

(8) **Sean Finnegan:** from the TOS episode _"Shore Leave"_, Sean Finnegan was an Irish upper classman at the Starfleet Academy, who teased and fought with Kirk mercilessly. In the episode, when faced with a replicated Finnegan, Kirk wanted to do nothing more than to "beat the tar out of him".

(9) **Hal'uh:** the Vulcan word for "go!".

(10) **What did Sa'aat say? **I'm mean, I know, but I deliberately didn't leave a translation of what Sa'aat said here because I wanted you readers to feel some of the frustration Kirk was feeling by not being to immediately translate what was said. So get out your Vulcan dictionaries and got for it!

(11) **Ahn'wun:** a Vulcan weapon shaped like a long belt or tether with heavy weights at either end. The guards wear them like a sash over their armor.

(12) **Ri'uh**: Vulcan for a loud, firm _"No!" _

(13) **To'tsu'k'hy**: The Vulcan neck-pinch or nerve-pinch that can incapacitate an opponent for short periods of time without any permanent damage; part of the Vulcan martial arts form known as _Kheile'a_.

(14) **Sakuvu thorshaya. Reh-leh thonek. I'uh**: translated from the Vulcan this means, _Radius blast. Thirty meters. Now!_

(15) **Ra-de'kutha**: from the Vulcan this translates as "mind-wand"; according to the VLD it is a _"modern psionic technology used to protect buildings/temples from attack"_. I just had Sa'aat use it to protect himself from the _Haulat's_ "stun-field".


	30. Chapter 30

**The Pon T'Keshtan  
****By Mary K. Hanson  
**Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the **totally ****un-betaed **version of this chapter. I'm publishing it now, even though my wonderful beta farstrider just got the draft a day or two ago, because I want to have all the "traffic" information on this "novel" compeleted by October 31st. ((I'm doing a graph on the traffic for a class in college.))

It is the **last chapter **in this story and includes an **Epilogue**.

I want to thank all of you readers who have been with this story since day one, and all of those who have joined us along the way. Your input and feedback have been priceless to me! I WILL be going forward with other stories that will follow up on this one, so you haven't seen the last of Sa'aat, Dr. Surrey, or Swahn yet! Long live Spock and Nyota!

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

Kirk was exhausted. It had been four days since T'Pau's attempted escape from New Vulcan, four days of making an appearance at the continuing Council Meetings whether he wanted to or not, four days of dealing with the media, and four days of communicating with the families of his deceased crewmen, giving them his condolences, arranging for the transport of Cho's remains, trying to explain to Davis' family why there was nothing left for them to bury, and then conducting the funerals for both of the fallen security officers while trying to make some sense of their senseless deaths.

As the night shift started, he closed himself off in his quarters, set the door chime to mute and shut off the comm-link, threw off his dress uniform and collapsed onto his bunk. This was one of those days when he hated being the "captain", the guy who had to do everything and be everywhere. He had known days like this were part of his job description, but that didn't make him detest them any less. The funerals he conducted earlier today were the worst; the most demanding duty ever, because he had to remain composed, be the strong leader, and hold up the rest of the crew even as his own eyes filled with tears and his voice broke with the anguish he was forcing himself to contain.

Spock had been great, though, a rock, the voice of calm and reason. He had told Cho's parents, facing them over a long-distance com-link that her death was a tragic and senseless one, one that cut off a promising career far too soon. "However, she died in the line of duty, protecting the lives of her fellow crewmates, and demonstrated a skill and a conscientious ethic that was well beyond her nineteen years," he said. "You have much of which to be proud - as do we who served with her."

It was just what her folks needed to hear from someone. Kirk had said pretty much the same thing to them, but when the words came from Spock they seemed to make more of an impact. Cho's folks _believed_ it, coming from him. _Vulcans don't lie_. It wasn't just pretty words said to placate them, the nice stuff people say about the dead. He was telling them the honest truth: their daughter was a competent officer, an asset, a hero. They needed to hear that.

Spock had a similar affect on Davis' family. When he was trying to explain the effects of the disruptor blast on their son to them, there was something in the way he put things, the words all offered with the unruffled demeanor of a scientist but softened somehow with an ineffable quality that was almost... well, endearing, (although Spock himself would have raised as eyebrow if such a word had been used to his face to describe him) that made the family respond to him with tear-filled nods of understanding, and even a few _thank you's_, though he was telling them their son was gone and there was nothing of his body left to send home to them.

Kirk didn't know how the deaths of Davis and Cho affected Spock himself, however; the Vulcan was tight-lipped about that. But the captain suspected that Spock was taking them personally, since the crewmen had been in a detail assigned to him and were acting on his behalf when they fell. Their deaths had been so senseless, so unnecessary... as had the death of Sionak's guardsman, Tuvey. Ste've's sudden ruthlessness out on the courtyard had shocked everyone who saw it - even some of the Vulcans - and there were some mutterings among the _Enterprise_ crew that T'Pau's insanity was seemingly somehow _contagious_.

Not all of the last four days had been difficult, however. There had been moments of levity. Watching the journalist, Fowler, try to negotiate with Sa'aat was fun for the captain, for example, in a purely guilty-pleasure sort of way.

Fowler had overheard a lot of what Sa'aat and T'Pau had said to one another in the alcove room, and he was positively bursting with questions about her physical relationship with Spock, where her child had come from and where it had gone, what she had done to deserve Sa'aat's wrath... For Spock's sake, and for the sake of finding an unbiased jury to sit at the upcoming criminal trials for T'Pau and Ste've, Sa'aat wanted as many of those questions squelched before the media made them all too public.

Sa'aat could have simply served and enforced a strict gag-order on Fowler and the Federation News Service; his position as Fik-Zhel-Lan offered him the ability and power to broadly interpret the existing laws on the planet, but he apparently didn't want to be so heavy-handed. The power he had been given could be easily abused; maybe, Kirk speculated, Sa'aat didn't want to get too comfortable with the idea that he could, quite literally, do anything he wanted to in the name of "security". So, instead, he called for a meeting with Fowler, and asked that Kirk sit in on those proceedings as a witness, a representative of both the Federation military, and less formally, as Spock's good friend.

Fowler first tried his "rights of a free press" speech on Sa'aat, complained about the evils of "censorship" and "cover-ups", and then demanded that he be given complete unadulterated access to whatever information there was revolving around the subject of T'Pau. It was a good show, Kirk admitted, and Fowler looked especially earnest when he said all of those things. His performance, however, was met with nothing but an unblinking, emotionless stare from Sa'aat, who sat on the windowsill of his office, set off like a solid shadow against the bright glare of the afternoon light coming through the glass, and said nothing. After a few seconds of meeting that stare, Fowler's stiff spine seemed to turn to elastic, and he sat down in a chair, muttering, "Fine. You make a suggestion then."

"I suggest nothing," Sa'aat informed him. "Instead, I will tell you how we shall proceed." He stepped slowly away from the window and picked up a PADD that was laying face-down on the top of his desk. "This contains a detailed analysis of the criminal activity with which former Minister T'Pau and the judicial intern Ste've have been formally charged. Included are the names and locations of other pertinent contacts, _vip nei_ recordings, and various statements from witnesses and authoritative parties including Triumvirate members T'Lale and T'Yelas. It also includes a document, signed by me, which allows the bearer access to all second-level security reports on New Vulcan, as well as a private communications node, providing a direct line to this office."

Fowler grinned and put his hand out to take the PADD. But the grin vanished when Sa'aat tilted the PADD just out of Fowler's reach and added, "It is yours – only if you will agree to my terms."

Fowler crossed his arms over his chest. "Which are?"

"Beyond the obvious, no mention will be made of any contact between Commander Spock and former Ministers T'Pau or Semuk, and no further inquiries whatsoever will be made into the conception or disposition of any of Commander Spock's or former Minister T'Pau's offspring, now or at any time in the future, without Commander Spock's expressed permission."

"W-?"

"And you will not ask me _why_ I put these conditions in place."

"_Humph_." Fowler glanced at Captain Kirk. "Can I ask _you_?"

Kirk chuckled, shook his head and put his hands up. "While Sa'aat is in charge, I'm not questioning or countermanding _any_ of his orders or requests. I don't know about you, but I _like_ being alive."

"That sounds like a second-hand threat to me," Fowler said, looking at Sa'aat.

"I can threaten you directly if you would rather." The line was delivered in a completely deadpan manner, which elicited another chuckle from Kirk.

The journalist tried to laugh, too, but the sound came out more like a stifled burp. He had seen with his own eyes the power the Fik-Zhel-Lan could summon up at a moment's notice, and, like Kirk, he wasn't eager to provoke that power. Still, the reporter in him wanted to ask about it, maybe see it demonstrated on a smaller scale, or explained in more detail... So, Fowler thought for a moment longer then asked, "And that's it? That's all? You don't want my first-born or my blood or anything?"

"Your word and signature will be sufficient."

"How do you know my word or signature is any good?"

"I have researched you, Gavin Fowler," Sa'aat said, "born eight pounds, six ounces at the Victory Memorial Hospital in Waukegan, Illinois on the planet Earth at zero-three-eighteen hours to Mark and Rhonda Fowler, sibling to sister Gwenyth. Gavin Fowler who is allergic to pistachios, is blood-type A-positive, and has a cat with the unfortunate name of Vomit."

"He pukes up a lot of hairballs," Fowler explained to Kirk.

"Gavin Fowler who has his hair dyed blonde at the Experience It Salon whenever his darker roots start to show, who pours inexpensive wine in to expensive wine bottles to impress his less cultured feminine liaisons, and who has a rather extensive collection of mint-condition late twenty-first century female-on-female pornography..." Gavin blushed scarlet, and Kirk snorted as Sa'aat continued, "I know everything there is to know about you, Mister Fowler. _Absolutely everything_. You will not cross me."

"That sounds like another threat."

"It is a statement of fact. Add whatever other inferences you like. As for this," Sa'aat bounced the PADD in his hand. "The offer will expire in one Earth minute."

As Fowler gazed at the PADD, Kirk could almost see the man's mind trying to run down all of the possible permutations associated with Sa'aat's offer, or threat, or whatever you wanted to call it before the clock ran out. Part of him hated the idea of being manipulated, but the pragmatic part of him new that manipulation of the media wasn't anything new, and sometimes going along was better than being completely shut out. He couldn't be a reporter on New Vulcan without Sa'aat's approval… and it wasn't like Sa'aat was asking him to cover up some grand government fraud or some impeachable offense or…

"Okay," he said abruptly. "You have my word."

"And your signature, please," Sa'aat said, handing the PADD over to him.

The encrypted files wouldn't open until his bio-signature was in place, so Fowler, hands shaking, held his thumb over the PADD's top sheet. Then to Kirk's surprise - and no doubt Sa'aat's as well, although the Vulcan didn't show it - from somewhere inside of him Fowler managed to summon up another teaspoon of courage and said, "But… I also want access to all of the information on the plak-tau drug… And…" His voice quavered a bit. "I also want an _exclusive_ interview with you… about your mental prowess, the _Haulat_, your role as the new Fik-Zhel-Lan, what you hope to accomplish here on New Vulcan, how your office will enforce the new laws being set down by the Council, all of that..."

Sa'aat gave him long, silent look, then narrowed his eyes and said, "Schedule an appointment with my secretary, Sol'dan."

"Add it to the contract - " Fowler said, but it came out more like a timid question than a command. Sa'aat raised an eyebrow, but took the PADD, added the additional agreements, and handed it back to him. Daring to smile just a little bit then, Fowler attached his thumbprint to the cover document, and immediately began studying the data on the PADD. Whatever was on it seemed to make him very happy.

Just seeing that "scrawny Human" win a concession from Sa'aat, even as small as it was, somehow made the captain's afternoon.

Another source of levity for Kirk was watching Spock trying to contend with the idea of meeting his new in-laws sooner than he'd anticipated.

When Lieutenant Uhura had made mention, in her last message home, about her pending engagement to Spock, her family back on Earth had inundated the comm-channels with transmissions filled with a mix of congratulations, advice, and more than a few curious questions about her fiancé. At one point, there were so many messages flooding through, that she actually had to reroute them away from the bridge and dump them into the personal communications node in her quarters to contend with at the end of her shift.

Spock had wanted to put off a formal announcement until after the medical emergency at New Vulcan was over and statutes were in place to make the announcement official, but in the face of the fact that the _Enterprise_ was going to be stationed at the planet for at least another month or more, while the medical teams oversaw the births and first weeks of postpartum care of the children of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, Uhura's family figured it was the perfect opportunity for them to catch the nearest long-distance shuttle, visit with Nyota before she took off on another mission, and meet her new intended.

Although Spock admitted he could see the logic behind their thought processes, he didn't seem especially pleased about the idea of being inundated with in-laws. He didn't really know why, but watching Spock struggle with that was another guilty pleasure for the captain. In the Captain's Mess, over a neat end-of-the-shift bourbon earlier that evening, McCoy had told him, "Meeting the in-laws is a rite of passage _every_ man has to suffer through in any long-term relationship. If I can live through it, so can Spock."

"Yeah, but you had alcohol to sustain you," Kirk jibed. "Spock doesn't drink."

"True. Alcohol doesn't affect Vulcans the way if affect Humans. They slosh out on chocolate instead. That's why Vulcan brandy reeks of the stuff… and why Spock likes those dipped strawberries so much."

"Really?"

McCoy nodded and finished off his drink.

* * *

Dr. Surrey sat in the tartan plaid chair in his office and watched as Spock paced the room for the third time. Their late evening session was the only one Surrey had open that could accommodate Spock's schedule that day, and he had to stifle a yawn so his patient wouldn't see it. He had hoped to talk to Spock about the funerals, but Spock's mind was elsewhere, and Surrey didn't want to force the other subject on him, so he said, reflexively, "You're feeling some anxiety over the prospect of meeting your new in-laws?"

"Anxiety is a Human emotion born of fear and uncertainty," said Spock, stopping as he normally did beside the shelf where the Vulcan figures were housed. He plucked one up, and clutched it loosely in his hand.

"Yes, but I don't need a definition of the word, Mister Spock. I need to know what you're _feeling_."

"I _feel_, Doctor," Spock said, putting the figure behind his back where his other hand clamped around it, as though shielding it, "as though I have been the focal point of a great deal of attention over the past several weeks, and being the center of attention has never been my preference."

"Oh, now, that's not entirely true."

Both of Spock's eyebrows went up.

"What I mean is: your history would suggest that you've made a concerted effort to excel at everything you do. When you strive to be outstanding - you stand out. People can't help but pay attention to you."

The eyebrows relaxed into their normal position, and Spock nodded once. "I understand your inference, Doctor. However, I was not referring to whatever marginal attention my career in Starfleet, or my financial, academic, or scientific achievements may have garnered for me."

"Then what _are_ you talking about?"

"I have been singled out for scrutiny and judgment by others all of my life..."

"And?"

"All of Lieutenant Uhura's relatives are Human, and the majority of them are Black. Their histories, physiologies, traditions and spiritual beliefs are decidedly different from mine."

"So... you'll stand out like a sore thumb among them... and that dredges up all your childhood feeling about being 'different'."

"That would seem apparent."

"And does revisiting those feelings frustrate you?"

"I would not use word 'frustrate', Doctor."

Surrey smiled. "No, of course you wouldn't."

"I am _concerned_, however, that I am seemingly incapable of dispensing with the negative inferences I attached to being 'dissimilar' as a child."

"Well, that's not uncommon, Mister Spock. When any particularly strong feelings are introduced into the psyche at an early stage of development, it's always difficult to overcome them or sublimate them. Any potentially _negative_ feelings, like inadequacy or inferiority, set down very deep roots when the mind is still very young, fertile, and open to suggestion. Vulcan children tend to come into a sense of self-actualization and individuation much sooner than Human children... so that stage of your development is a lot briefer than it is in Humans, and yet is exceedingly more dynamic. The brain sucks in a lot of information and stimulation very quickly, and then the psycho-emotional mindscape 'sets'. Once things 'set' in the psyche, it's nearly impossible to dispense with them. You can't _unlearn_ what you've already learned, so to speak. You can develop coping mechanisms to deal with the negative input, but you can't obliterate it - short of having your mind purged through a meld or something, I mean. So, when something happens that touches on those old hurtful feelings, it's not unusual to... emotionally _regress_, if you will. But you've successfully battled these feelings before, Mister Spock."

"Yes."

"Is something different this time?"

"Seemingly," Spock said. He placed the Vulcan figure on a shelf amid a crowd of humanoid figures. It was standing alone, with the humanoids around it but not touching it - more females than males. Surrey could have attached all sorts of Freudian connotations to that: fears of being consumed by the feminine, sexual identity dysfunction, Oedipal leanings, or what have you, but Vulcans were more literal in their thought process and presentation. Spock placed more women around the male figure because currently in his life and on his new home world females outnumbered males. So, the placement of the figure - surrounded yet separate - represented something literal, too.

"So what is it?" Surrey asked.

Spock said nothing, but tapped the edge of the shelf with his fingertip. "I stood out amid the Vulcan community all of my life... I stand out among my Human coworkers every day..."

"You stand out as a decorated graduate, an instructor and an officer in Starfleet... And you're going to stand out, again, among Lieutenant Uhura's relatives..."

"Yes," Spock said quietly.

"And after a time, that spotlight tends to burn."

"Precisely."

"You want a cooling off period."

"Yes."

"That's understandable. Did you discuss that with the Lieutenant?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I understand the logic behind her family's desire to visit with her at this time; this is an opportune moment for them: while the _Enterprise_ remains in orbit around New Vulcan, our proximity to her family is high, and our daily duties are at a minimum. It may be years before another such opportunity presents itself. And Nyota - Lieutenant Uhura - misses her family. She would very much enjoy their visit and their company. I cannot deny her this opportunity; not in light of everything she has done to support and assist me throughout our relationship, especially over the past several weeks."

"So, you're willing to subject yourself to the burn of the spotlight a while longer in order to please the Lieutenant... but at the same time, you're concerned about being subjected to a lot of unwanted scrutiny and attention again."

"Yes."

"And how do you intend to cope with that?"

"Doctor McCoy advised me to simply _'suck it up'_."

Surrey laughed, "That sounds like Leonard's bedside manner, all right."

"It does seem a plausible solution to what seems to be an inescapable conundrum. How do you Humans put it? _Grin and bear it?_"

"That's a possible solution, sure, but not necessarily your _only_ option, Mister Spock. Did it occur to you that maybe your in-laws are just as worried about _your_ acceptance of them, as you are about their acceptance of you?"

Spock looked at the figures on the shelf, his eyebrows knitting in the center of his forehead. He gazed at the air in front of him for a moment, as he considered this possibility, and then let his eyes focus on Surrey again.

The doctor gave him a reassuring smile. "You know, they don't have any more power in this situation than you do. In fact, you may have the upper hand here. You're a decorated Starfleet officer, the Lieutenant's superior; you're in your own territory - this is your ship they'll be visiting, and that's your new home world we're orbiting around, not hers - and you're the man to whom Lieutenant Uhura has pledged her heart and fidelity. The physical and tactical advantage here is yours, not theirs. You've been bracing yourself for a negative experience: assuming that her family is going to reject you, see you as an alien, deem you different... But they may just be coming to welcome you into their family."

Spock focused turned inward again, and he said nothing, but he did give the doctor a slow affirming nod.

"And if, while they're here, you start to feel overwhelmed, you can always find an excuse to step away, have some private time. Tell them about your normal meditation routines before they get here, so they know you're not just ditching them periodically throughout the day... and then give yourself a time out whenever you need it. You can also go sit with Swahn in the ICU; visitors are limited there. And you can pop down to the planet, when you need to, to sit in on the occasional Council meeting or something..."

Spock nodded more. "Those are all legitimate pretexts on which to excuse myself."

"Sure they are," Surrey assured him. "Now, when is everybody due to arrive?"

"Within six days, depending on the shuttle's sustained speed and outgoing traffic congestion around Earth."

"Well, then, we have about six days to work on your feelings."

Spock cocked an eyebrow at him. "O ne should be more than sufficient, Doctor."

Surrey chuckled.

* * *

In his cabin, still exhausted and yet almost too tired to go to sleep, Kirk rolled over on his bed and said aloud, "Computer, replay the Eighteen-Hundred News feed."

"Acknowledged," the ship's computer answered in its feminine voice, and a wall-mounted monitor across the room alit with that day's news.

A title card on the screen read: FNS, Chief Correspondent Gavin Fowler, Reporting, and then it was replaced with an image of Fowler himself, blonde hair and blue eyes gleaming, dressed in one of the new suits he'd purchased with the money from the raise he'd gotten from his news service. Once they found out he had an "in" with the first and only Fik-Zhel-Lan of New Vulcan, he became quite a commodity, and several different agencies had spent the last two days vying to retain him. Kirk smiled as he reminded himself of the old adage: _sometimes it's not __what__ you know, but __who__ you know._

Underneath Fowler, on the screen, was a tag-line that read: Our top story today - The Ek'tevan Extinction, and above it, Fowler himself looked at the camera and spoke in his best broadcasting voice. "Day four of the New Vulcan Council Meeting brought some resolution to the questions surrounding the much maligned Ek'tevan Prerogative and the disposition of the children born under that still very controversial edict.

"In a unanimous vote, the Thirteen Sects of the New Vulcan Council voted today to abolish the Ek'tevan Prerogative, and to add a Bill of Reproductive Rights to the New Vulcan Planetary Constitution which includes articles that guarantee Vulcan citizens the fundamental right to security and freedom within one's physical person, the right to one's personal genetic material, the right to reproductive privacy, and the individual's right to reproductive choices, including the right to decide when, if and how many children each individual will produce. This does not mean that the government will discontinue with its repopulation initiative, including the use of the problematic plak-tau drug, _Tau-Vimevilayek_, also known as TV-55. (1) Participation in the program from this date forward, however, will be on an entirely voluntary basis.

"That's good news for those who stood in opposition to the Ek'tevan Prerogative; most notably S'chn T'gai Spock..." A file photo of Spock showed up on the screen; a particularly flattering one, Kirk thought, showing the Commander in his charcoal gray instructor's uniform. "... who is currently serving aboard the Federation starship USS _Enterprise_, and who had publicly renounced his Vulcan citizenship rather than willingly submit himself to the edict's demands. In an auxiliary vote, today, Mister Spock's Vulcan citizenship was fully reinstated by the New Vulcan Council, along with the citizenship of others who followed in his footsteps in protest against the Ek'tevan Prerogative... including Mister Spock's father, Sarek, once a noted Ambassador for the planet Vulcan, and now the lead delegate of the Fonn Vuhlkansu Sect..." A video snippet showed Sarek at the Council Meeting sitting at the desk in front of his delegation, and then the image shifted back to Fowler again.

"The Ek'tevan Prerogative had included provisions for both the short-term and long-term care of the _Taluhk Tan_, the children born under the edict, and those provisions were also reviewed today.

"Out of them came several new statutes, including what's been labeled the Reclamation Homestead Act: a new law which allows each adult citizen of New Vulcan a quarter-section of land, equivalent to approximately one-hundred-and-sixty acres, to steward and develop for the benefit of the entire planetary population. The Act further provides to those children born under the now defunct Ek'tevan Prerogative and through the planet's on-going repopulation initiative, an extra one-eighth-section of land, about eighty acres, in compensation for their participation in the push to reestablish the Vulcan race. This land-for-citizens quotient will continue until one-third of the available, useable acreage on the planet surface is successfully homesteaded, at which time the Act will go into remission.

"In order to take advantage of the Act, each adult citizen of New Vulcan is expected to file an application with the New Vulcan Council for the acreage he or she is hoping to claim, along with a detailed plan for the land's use. Once ownership of the parcel is acknowledged by the government, and a deed is granted, the citizen then has five years to settle on and develop the land as per the preapproved plan. As you can imagine, parcels are being snapped up quickly. Unlike the land-grabs on other worlds, however, everyone on New Vulcan seems content to move forward at a swift but controlled pace, and so far no major clashes have taken place..."

Kirk was asleep before he heard anything else.

* * *

The next morning, Nyota found Spock exactly where she thought she'd find him, and walked in just as McCoy said quietly, "Okay. Are you ready?"

"I have been ready for twelve-point-two-minutes, Doctor."

"A simple _'yes'_ will do, Mister Spock."

Spock flicked a glance at Nyota as she entered the ICU, and then said, "Yes."

The doctor opened Swahn's isolette, carefully lifted the sleeping and swaddled infant from inside of it, and handed him over to Spock. It was the baby's one-week birthday, and this was the first time Spock had an opportunity to actually hold his son. Nyota was smiling; glad she hadn't missed this moment.

She didn't like the circumstances under which Swahn had come into their lives, but she had to admit the baby had found his way into her heart. She hustled, if quietly, over to a computer station in the room that gave her access to a personal video node, and set it to record. Then she used the controls to zoom in a bit on Spock and Swahn so they were most prominent on the screen.

Unsure of how to handle the small bundle at first, Spock flexed his arms and contorted them around the baby until he finally found a comfortable position, with Swahn nestled in the crook of his arm, the baby's body lying horizontally across his torso. Swahn didn't seem to be bothered by the slight change in venue, and yawned, but didn't open his eyes.

"Actually," McCoy said in almost a whisper, "preemies like to be held a little more tightly than that. Give him a lot of support; hold him snug with this arm, and then tuck your other arm in tighter, here, under his legs."

Spock pulled the baby up closer to his chest and chin, with his arms wrapped more tightly around him.

"That's it. Let him feel the boundaries around him – but don't smoosh him."

"_Smoosh_, Doctor?"

"Don't crush him in that Vulcan death grip of yours."

Spock loosened his hold slightly.

Approaching them, Nyota was pleased to see that the baby's skin had finally lost all of its jaundiced appearance, and now looked almost pearlescent, with a slight translucent green tint from his decidedly Vulcan blood. Tiny spidery veins showed through the skin in places, especially in the lids that covered his large eyes, and along the sides of his head where his psi-points were located. He was frowning a little bit in his sleep, and his thin upswept eyebrows nearly met in the middle of his forehead. His lashes were thick and long, like his father's, and his mouth was a soft Cupid's bow. It may have been wishful thinking on her part, but Nyota was grateful that Swahn, for the time being anyway, seemed to look more like Spock than he did T'Cloo. The only thing reminiscent of his biological mother was in the size of the infant's ears: unusually large and shapely for so small a Vulcan.

She watched as Spock felt through the blankets for the baby's hands and toes, did a quick digit count, and then put a finger between the folds of the wrap to touch Swahn's wispy black hair. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of them together, but still felt a pang of regret that the baby had come to him from another woman's body and not her own. She wondered if all adoptive mom's felt like that for a period of time, and for how long the regret would last. Was there a moment when she'd be consciously aware of it vanishing, or would it simply eke away from her over time?

"Let me give you just a few more tips, and I'll leave you kids alone with him for a while," McCoy said quietly. "Keep the noise level and movements to a minimum around him; we don't want him startled or over-stimulated. When you're feeding him, don't talk or sing. When you're talking or singing, don't rock or walk with him… Just give him _one_ stimulus at a time, until he gets old enough to handle more input; which, according to Doctor M'Benga, should be in another week or two."

"He's wrapped kind of tightly in the blanket, isn't he?" Nyota asked.

"Keeping a preemie tightly swaddled in this curled position, knees up, arms bent and in front of him simulates the position he would naturally assume in the womb - we call it _'flexion'_ - and it actually make him feel more comfortable, more at home. You have to keep in mind that, as far as he's concerned, he still thinks he's in his mama's belly. Little guys like this don't have the muscle strength to hold this curled position by themselves, so whenever you lay him down to sleep or are carrying him around, make sure he can feel the physical boundaries around him; wrap him tight, hold him tight.

"Cold is another factor, especially for a Vulcan child. When he's out of the isolette, keep the blankets on him or boost up the temperature in the room." (2)

Spock didn't look up from his son, but Nyota nodded and promised, "Will do. His heart and everything are okay now? No more bleeds?"

"He's not entirely out of the woods yet, but Swahn is remarkably tenacious for such a little guy. We figure he gets that innate stubbornness from his dad."

"Spock looked up at that remark, but remained silent.

"We're all rooting for him. If he keep progressing as well as he is now, he should be fine," McCoy said. He gave the baby a smile and Nyota a pat on the arm. Then he headed toward the door, stopping only to warn Spock with a hush growl, "Just don't drop him," before he left.

Nyota caught hold of the seat of a nearby rolling stool, and pulled it over carefully, noiselessly, close enough so she could sit on it in front of Spock and the baby. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

Spock's eyes remained on Swahn, but he answered quietly, "Yes, however... he smells... odd."

Nyota took a whiff. "Baby powder; get used to it. It's actually one of the more pleasant baby smells."

"It is not Vulcan."

"No. Maybe we can get the replicator to manufacture talc with a spicier scent." Spock nodded, seemingly satisfied by the suggestion. "How does it feel to hold him like this, First Time Daddy?"

Spock looked up at her. His eyes were filled with a kind of unspoken pride and passionate joy she had never seen in them before. Then he flexed the fingers of one of his hands toward her, even as he held onto his child, inviting her to slip her fingers in against his so he could share his feelings with her.

The sensations came over her and through her in waves of warmth.

_Pride…_

_Contentment…_

_Gratification…_

_A marveling wonderment…_

_Consanguinity… the fountain of heredity, bloodlines, genes…_

_The seamless integration of the child into the _k'war'ma'khon_…_

_Deep paternal attachment…_

She could also see, through the exaggerated vision created by the meld, colors in the baby's skin that her Human eyes could not otherwise see: patterns that decorated Swahn's head and neck like the spots on a lion's cub. She had never seen patterns like that on Spock's skin, and her mind immediately formed an unspoken question about them.

"Only newborns have the spots," he explained quietly, aloud. "We call them the _pi'kur-shal t'kan-bu_, 'baby freckles'. They are unique to the individual, but disappear with age. For a short time after the _pon t'keshtan_, it is one of the means by which a mother can identify a child as her own." (3)

"I didn't know that," Nyota said with a surprised smile. "Can the vid get a picture of the pattern?"

"If you adjust the setting to photograph in the ultraviolet range, perhaps. But why do you need a picture?"

"I'd like to add one to Swahn's baby book."

Through the meld, more feelings surged forward.

_A deep fondness… _

_Not just for the baby but for her as well…_

_Genuflection…_

_Veneration…_

_He thanked her and loved her for her acceptance of his son…_

"You're welcome," she said softly. Then she wondered, "Can the baby feel all of that?"

"The sensations course through his being, but his mind is not capable yet of attributing specific values or definitions to the input. He can differentiate between _pleasant_ and _unpleasant_, but assigns little else to the data at this point."

"And you can feel that from him?"

"Yes."

Touching the pattern on the baby's scalp with the fingertips of her free hand, Nyota stroked his fine skin for a few second then said, "Hang onto him like that for a minute. I want to see if I can photograph the spots."

She removed her hands from Spock and the baby, carefully, so the disconnection did not jar against Swahn's delicate psionic awareness, and tip-toed over to the computer. Adjusting the view to an ultraviolet setting, Nyota used the touch-pad to zoom in on Swahn's tiny head as Spock gently tilted the baby forward so he was more visible to the recording node. As soon as the spots on the baby's skin became visible to the machine's eye, Nyota snapped off a few still shots, grinning, and said, "There. Got it."

"What precisely is a _baby book_?" Spock asked as she approached him again.

"It's like a diary for the baby... to document his first two years of life."

"But all of that information will already be recorded within his being."

Nyota nodded, remembering the towering aventurine monoliths she and Sa'aat and found deep within Spock's mind during the _Katau Fa'ark_; the ones on which his personal history, his _vesht-var awek_, had been carved.(4) "Yes, but sometimes having that information externalized can be helpful... especially when others aren't as adept as you at accessing the information. Did you ever share that with your mother?"

"The _vesht-var awek_? Yes. On one occasion. I was seven years old, and had just finished my first mind-meld with my father. Mother was feeling somewhat left out, so Father assisted in linking her to me briefly through the history. I remember feeling her awe in that moment, along with a deep grief... her sadness that she could not often share such a bond with me, as my father could... as other Vulcans could." Spock looked at Nyota, suddenly understanding. "I see the necessity for the baby book, now."

"Good. I didn't want to get all whiny and motherly about it." She brushed Swahn's fine hair with her fingertips, the touch stirring within her all of her desire to give Spock a child herself, along with all of the latent maternal instincts inside of her brain and body that helped her accept this small motherless being as one of her own. "Will he... will he remember anything about how he came into being?"

"Not in the literal sense, no. What happens before his conscious awareness awakens is written on the physical body and within _The Duv_, but the practical mind does not comprehend it."

"Sometimes that's a good thing..."

In his blanket, Swahn yawned again and then pursed his lips, making small sucking sounds, before he drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

When the call came through later that morning to Doctor McCoy, he really wasn't surprised by it. He had been expecting it, after all. As soon as the wearer went into earnest labor, the MAGGIe was programmed to release the fetus into the birth canal, and then send an alert signal to the medical team assigned to the woman, letting them know the baby was on the way. As soon as the signal hit her station in one of the bivouacs, Nurse Chapel contacted McCoy on the _Enterprise_. "It's S'Risha," she said. "She was on her way to today's Council Meeting session when the MAGGIe released. She's making her way here now with T'Kela."

"I'm on my way down," McCoy said.

Another alarm went off.

"That's Enteria," said Christine.

Then another.

"That's -" And another. "T'Stala and T'Edri. Better hurry, Doctor," Christine said. "We're going to up to our armpits in babies pretty soon."

* * *

"The _pon t'keshtan_ has left your retinue short three delegates," Stenn said to Sarek from the center floor of the Formal Chamber as the Council Meeting reconvened that afternoon. "Do you still wish continue with the petition of the Fonn Vuhlkansu Sect to introduce for discussion the issue of negotiating amnesty for other previously banished individuals, sects, and offshoot races? Without your full delegation present, your Sect will be excluded from voting."

"Since we have presented the question for consideration, we are willing to forego our voting privileges at this time," Sarek said without getting up from his seat.

"Very well," Stenn said. He looked to the room, "Discussion on the aforementioned subject of amnesty will be predicated on a vote from the remaining Sects. Take this opportunity to deliberate, Delegates: do you wish the subject to be opened for debate at this time. Alight your _pok ha'gelek_ when you have made a decision and are ready to proceed." (5)

Sarek wasn't expecting to generate a lot of support on the idea of reinstating the previously banished sects and offshoot races. They included, after all, the Fri'slen, Debrune, Watarii, and Vulcanoid Rigelians, as well as the Romulans. But he also knew that sooner or later, the disposition and recognition of these dispossessed races was going to have to be addressed - just as it had been for the _V'tosh ka'tur_. (6) There had been murmurings about some sects within the Romulan empire that, in recompense for the damage done by Nero of Romulus, wished to extend a hand of cooperation and peace to the surviving Vulcans. So, for the possible good of the many, Sarek was willing to go before the Council and request that these individuals be given a chance to speak.

In response to even the _consideration_ of such a request, however, the lamps in front of the desks of Traditionalist sects in the Council chamber lit up almost immediately. Extending a hand of inclusion to the Romulans, after a Romulan had destroyed their home world, Sarek presumed, was simply too much for them. They were vehemently against reinstatement and didn't want to give the issue any more thought than it took to light their _pok ha'gelek_.

It was something of a surprise, however, when the lamp in front of the Federation's delegation also lit up quickly. He turned a calm eye to Ambassador McCormick, and saw her shrug apologetically at him and shake her head. Sarek raised an eyebrow at her, but was then distracted by a tap on his shoulder from the violet-eyed Serran, who handed him a PADD.

Sarek read it silently. His face gave no clue to the others in the room that the note read: T'Makh's labor has commenced.

"Thank you," was all Sarek said as he handed the PADD back to the younger man.

* * *

On the bridge of the _Enterprise_, Nyota said, "Incoming message, sir," and Spock turned slightly in the captain's chair to tell her, "On screen."

The main view screen lit up with the image of Serran. No longer in the Formal Chamber, he was now standing inside one of the bivouacs. Spock could see a commotion of movement behind him as the medical teams readied equipment, personnel and beds for the expected influx of patients.

"Has there been some emergency?" Spock asked him.

"No, Commander. I wished only to inform you: the _pon t'keshtan_ commences."

"Yes. Doctor McCoy has already advised me. Thank you."

Serran loitered for a moment, then said, "K'ek'te'kru t'du -" _(With your permission - )_

Spock lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Nam-tor istau nash-veh k'T'Edri nash-pon," Serran said. _(I wish to be with T'Edri at this time.)_

"Nam-tor tan-tor ek'te'kru t'nash-veh, Serran. Ya'akash t'sai dungau du." _(Permission is not mine to give, Serran. You must ask the lady.)_

Serran bowed his head once, and the image of him flicked off the view screen leaving the view of the planet and star field in its place.

From their stations, Sulu and Chekov looked back at Uhura for a moment, hoping she would translate for them.

"As you were, gentlemen," Spock said, and they both swiveled back to their control panels with a quietly uttered, "Aye, Commander."

* * *

Sa'aat walked into the bivouac later that same evening, and from the crowd of interns, doctors, nurses and patients - some just arriving for their shifts, some already being seen to in semi-private areas blocked off by sheer curtains and force fields that kept everything sterile - he picked out Christine and headed toward her. A cacophony of conversations, orders, and questions whirled around him along with the noise from the medical equipment and the newborns.

"Kup da-tor ska'temok-glakuv du ha? Nam-tor zhuksuik olau au nash-veh..." _(Can you turn off the wall-images? They are making me feel...)_

"We've got water-filled birthing chambers available if you prefer..."

"Two-minute intervals..."

"_Wooo-aaaaaaaaaa_!"

"The pressure you're feeling is entirely normal..."

"Gla-tor khaf nash-veh..." _(I see blood...)_

"I've got teeth-chattering here. Let's get those thermostats up, people!"

"_Wooo-aaa_! _Wooo-aaa_!"

"Squatting is sometimes easier on the spine, but if you'd rather lie down..."

One of the women vomited on the floor, and a crew stepped in immediately clean it up.

"Crowning... Just a few more pushes..."

"Well, it's about time you got here," Christine scolded him as she hit Sa'aat on the upper arm with a gloved hand. She then pointed, "Sterile field is through there, on the other side of the curtain. Get in there before she bites someone's head off."

Curious, Sa'aat pulled the sheer curtain aside, and felt the _*snap*_ of the sterile field as it passed over him and closed behind him, leaving him standing on front of a twin pair of beds. T'Lale was sitting up in her bed, quiet, propped up with pillows, a monitor to her right displaying her vital signs and those of her soon-to-be-born infant. But T'Yelas was trying to walk around with an ungainly open-legged stance, even as her contractions gripped at her abdomen.

"Nem-tor s'ish-veh'uh! Nem-tor s'ish-veh'uh!" she growled through her teeth. _(Get it out! Get it out!)_

"Ma'am," one of the orderlies said, holding his hands out, trying to calm her. "You're only at eight-centimeters. You've got to get to ten before -"

Looking at him through straggling tendrils of her long hair, she hissed, "Nem-tor s'ish-veh t'nash-veh i'uh, du guhsh komihn'uh!" _(Get it out of me __now__, you worthless __Human__!)_

"She has always felt things more deeply than I," T'Lale explained to Sa'aat, "and the hormones are vexatious to her. Please, help her."

Sa'aat stepped toward T'Yelas and said in a commanding voice, "Nam-tor nash ra ha?" _(What is this?) _

T'Yelas gripped the side of her bed with one hand, and looked up at him through her hair. "Ohhhh," she whimpered. "Vesht var-tor rai-veh dungi-olau spo'nash ish-veh'uh." _(No one told me it would feel like __this__!)_

Sa'aat shook his head, disappointed in her emotional exhibition, but went to her anyway, and took her hands in his. Startling pain and a childlike fear seared into him immediately at the contact, and to counter it, he pushed calm and control back toward her through the link. It took a moment for any of it to register in her body, but when it did, she looked up at him, a bit embarrassed and very shaken.

"So much noise," he said softly, pulling her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. "Quiet yourself, T'Yelas. All of this agitation is not good for you or the child."

"Kafusik... kafusik..." she muttered against his chest. _(Sorry... sorry...)_

"Hold onto me. We will see you through this."

"Ha..." _(Yes)_

"The doctors can give you something for the pain if you let them."

"Ha..." A little more composed, but still trembling, tears in the corners of her eyes, she whimpered, "Vi vesht tar-tor kan-keshtan nam-tor valsuirk, tor etek vesht vup-tor'uh," as Sa'aat lead her back to her bed. _(Whoever said childbirth was beautiful, __lied_

_to us.)_

_

* * *

_

Captain Kirk didn't know if Vulcans actually celebrated the birth of their children with gifts, but over the next two days he had Scotty replicate some plush toy sehlats for him - ones with large pink bows for the girls, and ones with large blue bows for the boys - and had them distributed to each of the newborns on the planet surface.

"A belated birthday present," he explained to Spock when he brought one of the blue-ribboned plushies to Swahn and tucked it in against him in the isolette.

"A convincing rendering," Spock said in a soft voice, so as not to disturb the baby, "but the canines are inordinately large in comparison to the overall size of the animal."

"So sue me," Kirk joked just as quietly. "How are Pa'shu and the cubs, by the way?"

"Progressing adequately," said Spock. "The cubs are now two weeks old, and weigh approximately fifteen kilograms a piece - as is to be expected for their age. Their eyes are now open, and their teeth are starting to come in, so Engineer Scott has manufactured teething rings for the both of them out of transparent aluminum. They do seem to prefer the furniture, however."

The captain chuckled. "Is Sarek still planning on taking them to New Vulcan with him?"

"- As soon as the property matters there are settled, yes. We are hoping to discuss that further this morning before he goes into the next Council Meeting."

"You'll be granted land under the new Homestead Act, too, won't you?"

"Yes. Both Swahn and I. It is my hope that Father will deign to oversee our land in my absence."

"So… you'll be staying with Starfleet then?"

"Yes, Captain. Had you doubted that?"

"I just wasn't sure. You hadn't really said anything so... I'm relieved that you're staying on. I'd hate to have to break in a new Science Officer." The captain smiled, and then watched as Swahn extended thin fingers out from the edge of his blanket, and gripped the toy's stubby tail without opening his eyes to look at it. "I swear that little guy gets cuter every time I see him."

Spock's eyebrows tightened with puzzlement. "I do not believe that is possible."

"The appropriate response is: _thank you_," Doctor McCoy remarked softly, as he came in to check the baby's readings before heading back down to the planet again. He flicked some switches and tapped some commands into the instruments on the side of the isolette, and perused the read-outs. "Did Christine tell you that we're adding just little more _khub-sash_ to the baby's formula?" (7)

"Yes, Doctor," Spock answered.

"For his heart -" McCoy said by way of explanation to the captain, as he tapped his finger against his side were a Vulcan's heart would be located. "Swahn's still a tiny bit on the anemic side."

"Nothing serious, I hope."

"No. He's doing extraordinarily well." McCoy looked at the other monitors, as he signed off on the baby's chart. "Everything is looking good... By the way, are you coming down with us to meet T'Makh, Jim?"

The captain looked at Spock, astonished. "I didn't know I was invited."

"You weren't," McCoy said.

"And neither was Doctor McCoy," Spock told him flatly.

The doctor smiled. "And yet I'm going anyway."

"Oh, this should be fun," Kirk said with a grin.

* * *

Sa'aat was standing by T'Yelas' bed in the bivouac. Both she and her sister were sleeping, finally, and T'Lale's daughter Tuula was resting comfortably in her bedside isolette, sucking on her own tiny fist. But T'Yelas' son, Sa'atik, was being something of a problem child. A colicky baby, Sa'atik seemed to cry continuously, and nothing seemed to please him or make him physically comfortable short of having his father hold him.

"I cannot stand here all morning, coddling the child," Sa'aat had told T'Yelas. When she pouted at him, he said, "If I did not know better, madam, I would suspect that you and your son had colluded with one another, and invented this scheme simply to keep me here with you."

"Sa'atik may be that ingenious, but I assure you T'Yelas is not," T'Lale quipped from her own bed. "The child _does_ seem to respond to you, Sa'aat. Stay just long for my sister to get some rest..."

"Very well." Sa'aat looked at T'Yelas who was snuggling down under her blankets looking rather smug. "I will remain for a few hours."

"See that you do," T'Yelas said, and she was asleep almost before she had finished plumping her pillow under her cheek.

At first, Nurse Chapel set up a sling-like contraption that effectively strapped the baby to Sa'aat's chest and shoulders, but Sa'aat rejected that arrangement immediately, sending the sling across the enclosed space with a single throw, that left it hanging from an overhead lamp like sphagnum from a tree. He preferred instead to hold the infant, wrapped like a tiny burrito in a blanket and a rectangle of memory foam, in the crook of his arm, resting lengthwise there like an unloaded rifle. Sa'atik seemed to enjoy this configuration as well, and lay there quietly - at last - with his thin fingers wrapped around the pad of his father's thumb, through which he could feel Sa'aat's reassuring strength and quiet energy.

"We might have to hire you full-time," Christine said with a relieved grin. "He was really wearing us out."

"The conditions are temporary, I assure you," Sa'aat answered.

"Sure. Whatever you say." She patted Sa'aat on the back, and then left him to his son and the twins.

Sa'aat was still standing with the baby in his arm when Sionak entered and gave him a low bowing salute. The guard glanced at T'Lale and T'Yelas, and saw they were both dozing, so he kept his voice to a whisper. "The _Haulat_ reports, osu."

"Yes?"

"The _S'harien Aidoann_ decloaked once it was outside the moon's orbit; a small courier shuttle of Romulan design, as you suspected. However, there were no Romulans aboard her. The ship's compliment seemed to have been comprised of four Vulcans, two Orions, three Rigelians... and an artificial life-form of unknown origin."

"An android?"

"Unspecified, but presumably so..."

"An odd grouping."

"Yes, osu."

"What were you able to find out about them?"

"Very little. They had filed no flight plans through the regular channels, and left no crew list or manifest to trace. From a bio-sketch done by the _Haulat_, however, we were able to identify the captain of the vessel: a Vulcan male by the name of Stonn."(8)

Sa'aat's eyebrows rose in recognition of the name, and at the same instant, the infant in his arm frowned deeply and let out a feeble, _"waah-waaah!"_

"A receptive child," Sionak observed.

"You have no idea."

* * *

Nyota was initially going to forego the trip to meet T'Makh, but then changed her mind. "It wouldn't be fair," she said to Spock, "if I insisted you meet my parents but then I didn't meet your new step-mother." Besides, she was also curious about the woman, and wanted an opportunity to _size her up_.

"T'Makh is a Traditionalist at heart; she may speak her mind about our betrothal," Spock told her.

"Let her speak. If she doesn't like the idea of you and me being together, we're going to hear about it eventually anyway, aren't we? I'd like to know where I stand with her."

"I do not even know where _I_ 'stand' with her," Spock admitted as they stepped up onto the transporter pads where Kirk and McCoy were waiting for them.

After rematerializing on the planet surface, they all headed directly toward the Medical Facility. It was still early morning, so the air was cool and there was a slight breeze that filtered through between the buildings. From somewhere the sound of tinkling wind chimes could be heard, along with an occasional deep-bellied gong.

Captain Kirk knew that Vulcans often used bells and gongs in their rituals and ceremonies, but it had come as a small surprise to him to learn that they also used them for decorative purposes. The surrounding buildings were configured in such a way as to capture and channel the musical sounds from the chimes and gongs to specific areas of the city. If you sat in front of the Le-Matya Kin-kur café, for example, you could actually hear melodies and distinct harmonies wafting through there when the wind blew. (9) The pretty noise wasn't enough, however, to deflect his attention from the courtyard as they passed through it. He had been back there every day since the deaths of Davis and Cho, to sit in at the Council meetings, and every day, including today, he couldn't stop himself from looking for any evidence of their murders: a spot of blood, a burnt scar left by a phaser blast, flakes of material refuse from the disruptor.

There was none. The cobblestones were pristine.

_How quickly and succinctly the Vulcans can move on_, Kirk thought to himself again. And then he found himself wondering, once more, if Spock had been able to remove the evidence of that tragedy from his psyche as well; or if the happenings of that distant afternoon were forever trapped inside of him, prisoners of his near-eidetic memory. He knew Spock was still seeing Dr. Surrey for sessions on a daily basis, but he had no idea what the two of them talked about. Strictures of confidentiality didn't allow Surrey to discuss the details with anyone.

"Just tell me if he's doing all right -" the captain had said to him, stopping Surrey in the corridor just before he entered a turbolift.

Holding the door open with one hand, Surrey gave him a narrow, questioning look. "Are you asking for my professional opinion?"

"Something like that."

"Based on my analysis, Mister Spock is fit for duty, Captain... and that's all I can tell you."

"Come on, Doc."

"If you want to know anything else, you're going to have to ask him yourself."

"I don't want to intrude..."

"Of course you do. You just don't want to intrude _directly_."

"You know, I hate it when you do that."

"Do what? Tell you the truth?"

"Yeah."

"It's my job."

"I know... but I still hate it."

Surrey had laughed a little and then let the door close before Kirk could ask him any other questions. Nyota was also closed-mouth on the subject. If she knew anything about what Spock and Surrey discussed, she carefully kept it to herself.

Spock was walking beside her now, but not looking anywhere except ahead of him where the Medical Facility sat, tinged a yellowish-pink by the early morning light. His hands were clasped behind his back, a traditional position when on New Vulcan. When he realized Kirk's eyes were on him, Spock looked across to the captain and cocked his head slightly in that unasked-question sort of way he had the habit of doing. Kirk gave him a slight unfinished smile, and then, forcibly changing his train of thought, turned to McCoy and asked, "How many births so far, Bones?"

"Six-hundred and four," McCoy answered, "split between the various medical teams, of course. But we're expecting that number to double or triple within the next two weeks. The atmosphere is so full of female hormones now it can't help but trigger the rest of the women to go into labor. Feeling any uterine tugs yourself, yet, Uhura?"

She gave the doctor a scolding glance, then said, "I'm working on it." The Humans chuckled at that, but Spock simply looked ahead.

Kirk continued, "Any complications so far?"

"Not as many as we expected," McCoy admitted, "which is surprising given the number of births and everything these babies have been through. No stillbirths so far, and that's a blessing. Of course, all of these kids are premature and have an up-hill battle because of that, and some birth defects don't show up right away... but, so far, we haven't come across anything we can't handle. We've seen a handful with heart conditions similar to Swahn's, lots of jaundice and cases of anemia, some cleft palates, some babies with small intestine stenosis... things like that. Oddly enough, there have also been about a dozen kids born with acute oculocutaneous hypopigmentation..."

"_Albinism_," Spock translated. "T'Edri's child was born with that condition."

"Yeah. And I don't care how well she covered it with that Vulcan pragmatism of hers, but it still shocked her. Luckily, she hasn't refused the baby like some of the others have."

Nyota looked genuinely surprised. "The mothers are _rejecting_ their babies? Just the albino kids or the kids in general?"

"- The kids in general. We typically deal with postpartum depression in about ten percent of Human births, but it's been virtually nonexistence among Vulcans, until now... at least that we know of. Vulcans don't talk about things like that with the general public, of course; but even M'Benga is surprised by the numbers we're seeing - almost _twenty-two_ percent - and how fast it seems to be presenting. Dr. Surrey is working up strategies to address it. Most PPD in Humans is connected to stress and hormonal imbalances, and we're assuming it's basically the same in the Vulcans, but we're just not sure. Whatever is causing it, a lot of the women are feeling completely disconnected from their kids, and quite frankly, so are a lot of the males."

Nyota fought the urge to look at Spock at that moment, and was actually rather grateful when they approached the Medical Facility and found Sybok standing outside the main entrance. Two of the _V'tosh ka'tur_ delegates were with him, but they finished their discussions and left just as Kirk and the others came near.

"I swear, I have never had to talk so much in my life," Sybok said, grinning, as he reached out and shook Captain Kirk's hand, then gave Nyota an almost crushing hug . His good will and joy suffused her body through the contact, and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"How do you feel the Council meeting is going thus far?" she asked.

"We're all making progress. A few more days and the general committees will all be established, and then we can get down to the more detailed legislative processes in smaller groups. And you, Little Brother, where have you been?" Sybok asked clapping Spock firmly on the shoulder. "You missed all of my pretty speeches! Father was actually impressed by some of them; it was quite remarkable."

"I have had the opportunity to review some of them, Sybok," Spock told him. "The one regarding the Ecosystem Development Initiative, however, seemed overly verbose."

"Ah, yes! The Humans refer to that a _filibuster_. When used sparingly it can be quite an effective bargaining tool," Sybok said, leading them into the facility. His laughter filled the foyer as he added, "It's actually surprising what other people are willing to do just to get you to _shut up_."

* * *

When they entered T'Makh's hospital room, Nyota was a bit surprised by how many people were already there. She had expected Sarek to be present - He was seated to the left of T'Makh's bed so he could attend to her while also keeping an eye on the door. - but seeing Serran and Spock's plak-tau women was somewhat jolting. Nyota flashed a look of confusion and startlement at Spock, and he replied with a covert shake of his head which indicated he had no idea the women were going to be there.

On the wall behind Sarek, Karil and V'Rha'lahn were standing, dressed in long gowns appropriate for the Council Meeting they were going to listen in on later that morning; and in chairs near the foot of the bed, were T'Liik and T'Edri, dressed in post-maternity gowns, both cradling sleeping newborns in their laps. Serran was standing beside and slightly behind T'Edri in the consort position. That he would take such a stance beside her, when she was holding Spock's newborn son, seemed unusually bold to Nyota, and she looked again to Spock to try to gauge his reaction.

"Interesting," was all he said after a short pause.

He would have gone to Serran and the women immediately for further explanations and discussions, but was cognizant of the fact that this was T'Makh's room, and that her age and family standing currently put her in the preeminent position, even though she and T'Liik were very close chronologically. Spock focused his attention on her.

The woman was much as Nyota expected her to be: regal in the way all elderly Vulcan women seemed to carry themselves, her face a mask of control framed by slightly silvering hair, her dark eyes both inquisitive and judgmental, but not unkind. There was also a pinched quality to her face that made Nyota believe the woman might be in pain, although nothing in her voice or movement seemed to support that speculation. T'Makh did shock the others in the room, however, when she greeted Nyota with a very informal, "Tonk'peh, ko-fu," and patted the mattress, inviting Nyota to sit down beside her. _(Hello, Daughter.)_

"Dif-tor heh smusma, T'Sai T'Makh," Nyota answered more formally, as she sat down, careful not disturb the blankets. _(Live long and prosper, Lady T'Makh.)_

"She speaks our language quite well," T'Makh said to Sarek.

"Indeed," Sarek agreed. "I present to thee, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura of the starship _Enterprise_; soon to be our daughter by bonding. She is one of the Federation's most notable xenolinguists."

"How many languages do you speak?"

"Fluently, about sixty-two," Nyota answered, "including Ferengi, Klingon, and all of the Romulan dialects. And I can fudge my way through about a dozen others." (10)

"That must be quite beneficial." T'Makh kept her eyes on Nyota but leaned slightly toward Sarek and said to him, "Hi dungi-patau tsat fasei ish-veh rihagik." _(Although it will be difficult to keep secrets from this one.)_

Nyota couldn't tell if the woman was teasing or being serious, but she smiled and asked, "Nam-tor ki'tsat wehk du T'sai ha?" _(Do you have many secrets, Lady?)_

"All extended and successful families have secrets, my daughter. Kupi-var-tor du zamu pa Spahk-kam nash-veh kuv spo'du." _(I could tell you a few about Spock, if you like.)_

Spock cocked an eyebrow at the woman, and Sarek intervened politely with, "Perhaps another time. Let me present to thee, my wife, my sons: Sybok and Spock."

Sybok, who had been standing in the doorway stepped forward and bowed to T'Makh. "Dungau vutau du ra nash-veh - T'Sai T'Makh heh ko-mekh ha? _(What shall I call you - Lady T'Makh or mother?)_

"Your Vulcan is less cultured than hers," T'Makh said plainly. "_Dungi-vutal_ would have been preferable to _dungau vitau_. Perhaps you could benefit from a few a lessons with my new _ko-fu_, Sybok."

Nyota didn't know what to make of the comment, but Sybok grinned and broke out into laughter. "The lady is a jester! I like her, Father. Well done."

Lady T'Makh gave him a head-bob as a thank you.

Spock was next. He, too, gave the woman a formal bow, but said nothing. Nyota wasn't sure if he was being rude and dismissive, or if he simply had nothing to say. This was the first time he had met the Lady T'Makh face-to-face; perhaps he was simply considering her as a prospective step-mother. T'Makh helped to alleviate some of Nyota's concerns, however, when she leaned again toward Sarek and said quietly, "Nam-tor kau-bosh sasu ku fai-tor lu kup-ralash-fam." _(It is a wise man who knows when to be silent.)_ She looked to Nyota. "Eh kunli-vel tal-tor sa-telsu vi kup potau ikap ru'lut sa-veh lu bolayatik." _(And a happy thing, to find a husband who can keep his mouth shut when necessary.)_

Nyota giggled a little, and unconsciously let her hand slip on top of T'Makh's.

In response, T'Makh curled her own hand closed immediately, and pulled it out from under Nyota's, but said nothing. The reaction wasn't unusual for a Vulcan: they generally didn't like to be touched by people they didn't know. And when someone made a social faux pas, like that, everyone else usually politely ignored it, believing that bringing attention to the mistake would only exacerbate things. It wasn't T'Makh's pulling away or the others' silence that concerned Nyota at that moment, however; it was the fact that during the brief contact with the older woman, she had felt something very akin to apprehension or woe, neither of which showed on the woman's face. Apparently, when T'Makh had spoken of _keeping_ _secrets_, she hadn't been completely joking about it.

To deflect attention from the incident, Sarek presented to the others his new son, Tefuk. The name meant _'delivery'_ in Golic Vulcan, and _'delivered'_ in Ancient, Nyota knew. She was shocked by how big the baby was. Unlike the other preemies, Tefuk was thick-boned and almost brutish-looking. Next to Swahn, he'd appear almost a year older. If he maintained his proportions, Tefuk was going to be huge when he grew up – an easy match for burly guard, Sionak.

The rest of the meeting went along rather quickly after that. Sybok, Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk made a few jokes to which the Vulcans raised eyebrows or tilted their heads to express their tacit acceptance of the humor, and Nyota sometimes laughed (more careful than ever now to keep her hands to herself). Then there was a brief discussion about the Reclamation Homestead Act, and the fact that the plak-tau women wanted contiguous pieces of property, if possible, to create a large single estate, so the extended family, including Karil and V'Rha'lahn, even though they weren't directly related to any of the others, could remain within proximity of one another. The women and Serran also tentatively agreed that Sarek and T'Makh would be allowed oversee everything as the recognized Head of their new extended House. Once again, the Ek'tevan Prerogative was directly impacting on the Vulcan concept of family: creating alliances and relations where none had existed before. Only time would tell how successful the new configurations would be.

Sarek had brought some PADDs with him that showed them various plots of land for their consideration, through digital imagery charts and topographical maps, as he also described the water and mineral rights available on the properties, and what short-term environmental studies had already been made available. They eventually chose a series of plots north and east of Svitan'Kahr, over the mountains. There was a narrow plain there where an oxbow river cut a winding path down to the distant ocean. Other homesteaders had apparently rejected the land because it was mostly a great flood plain with mountains on its western flanks, which would make building on it somewhat complicated, and little would grow there but rice and other wet-crops. The benefit of the land, however, Sarek pointed out, was that it was one of the few water-saturated land areas, sitting on top of a natural aquifer near the main city. On a mostly _desert_ planet, water was a commodity that would eventually bring in more income than rice or water spinach. A portion of the land could also be set aside as a natural wetlands area.

Spock seemed to like that idea, and told the others that it would be most logical for him to acquire that part of the estate because he wouldn't be around to develop it much anyway, and of the properties it could remain the most pristine. He also wanted this plot because it wasn't land-locked by the others' properties, so he would be allowed easy access to his land without necessarily having to impose on his relatives to get to it; and he could annex part of the mountainous edge of the property for Swahn. He didn't mention this in front of the others, however. Nyota assumed T'Makh knew about the baby, through Sarek, but as far as she could tell, Spock's plak-tau women were still oblivious to Swahn's existence, so Nyota didn't broach the subject with any of them.

For her part, Nyota didn't care so much about where the plak-tau women wanted to situate themselves, as long as it wasn't aboard the _Enterprise_.

After nearly an hour, a chime rang letting Sarek, Sybok and Kirk that it was time to head toward the Cathedral for that morning's Council session. Kirk was getting bored with the meetings now that the larger issues had all been addressed, but made an appearance every day, whenever he could, to show solidarity and to support the Federation's seat on the Council. Eventually, the seat now held by Ambassador McCormick and FAVA, he knew, would be relinquished to another sect, but for now, the position was theirs and they had a vote in everything that came up to the rest of the Council. McCormick relished the position with an obviousness that was somewhat off-putting to the Vulcans, Kirk thought, but they were generally polite in their tolerance of her, knowing her position would not be a permanent one.

As Kirk and the others started to leave, Nyota left her seat on T'Makh's bed, and went to the door to join them, then noticed that Spock was lingering in the room. "Coming, Spock?" Kirk asked.

"Momentarily, Captain."

Kirk gave him a nod then left behind Sarek, Sybok and McCoy. Nyota stayed where she was beside the door as it closed. Spock stood very still for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts, tempering his emotions, and then looked at Serran without speaking.

Serran likewise said nothing, but extended the fingers of his right hand down to T'Edri in the form of the _ozh'esta_. She answered his gesture by raising the fingers of her hand to touch his as she said, "It is our hope, Spock, that we may avoid any invocation of the _Ku'nit Ka'fa'ar_."(11)

"You wish to adopt the child as your own, Serran?" Spock asked.

"With your permission," Serran said with a slight bow.

"Adoption would negate the child's claim to any inheritance from my bloodline," Spock reminded him.

"I believe I will be able to provide the child with adequate care and compensation in that regard. The greater issue may be, however, that adoption would also permanently negate all of your paternal rights to the physical and legal custody of the child."

"Yes," said Spock. He thought for a moment, and then added, "However, adoption _does_ seem a logical and mutually beneficial arrangement under the current circumstances. As long as my former agreement with T'Edri - to allow the children of my blood unfettered access to one another as they grow and develop - I have no objection, at this juncture, to Serran adopting and rearing my child by T'Edri." He looked to T'Makh. "You will stand as witness to this agreement, madam?"

"I will," she said.

"May I see him?" Spock asked, and Serran gave him another short bow. Spock walked to where T'Edri was seated, and she opened the blanket around the baby's head and face, saying, "I present to thee, Sedok, _thanai k'Serran_."(12)

Sedok's skin was ghostly pale, and his fine hair was as white as the surface of Delta Vega: what the Vulcans called _fam-kursu_, albino. Such births were decidedly rare among Vulcans, and yet Doctor McCoy had said nearly a dozen children had already been born without pigmentation, so despite his uncommonness Sedok would not be completely alone. There were some - like Sa'aat - who believed the lack of pigment was reflective of an intense connection between a child and the planet's _ta'ma_; evidence that the planet itself was blessing and the claiming the new inhabitant as a part of itself, leaving it white so that it reflected all of the colors of the universe.(13) Spock wasn't versed enough in such spiritual matters to know if the assessment was anything close to being a correct one, but the idea of it seemed somehow... _comforting_ to him.

Spock then stepped over to T'Liik who came to her feet as he approached her, and without waiting for him to ask, opened the blankets around her newborn so he could see it. "I present to thee, T'Aitlu, _ko-fu t'Spahk,_" (14) she said in a hushed voice.

The baby girl was fine-boned, delicate, her skin like porcelain tinted with a pale blush of green; she was nearly bald and her eyebrows were little more than a whisper of dark hair above her eyes but there was something exotically pretty about her even at this formative stage.

"I leave her to your care, madam. Do well by her."

"Always," T'Liik promised him.

"May I offer a blessing?" Spock asked the mothers.

Both women's features softened considerably – with what Humans might have called gratitude or pleasure – and both gave him a head-bob in the affirmative.

Spock then stood between them, raised one hand over Sedok's head and one over T'Aitlu's head, and in a low, quiet voice he said, "Nash-veh Spahk, sa-fu t'Sarek, hatik sa-mekh t'Sedokong Aitluong kudau dular." _(I, Spock, son of Sarek, biological father of Sedok and T'Aitlu, bless you both.)_ "Lau kudaik t'dular panu sochya eh mau-yan." _(May your world be blessed with peace and abundance.)_ "Lau nam-tor rom heh bosh-odva t'hyle t'dular kanok-wilat halo-vau dular." _(May good and faithful friends be yours everywhere you both travel.)_ Lau katau-tor dular dan-ek ek'tevun-yonuk ha-kiv t'dular." (May all the seasons of your life bring you both the best.)

It was, by Vulcan standards, a typical blessing for a newborn, but Spock added the very non-Vulcan, "Eh talal mak dular," to the end of it that eked an extra smile out of Nyota. _(May you both find joy.)_ (15)

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

The isolation wards deep inside the bowels of the Medical Facility had initially been constructed to segregate and contain potentially infectious patients and microbes from the rest of the facility's general population, but they also now served Sa'aat's purpose for isolating and confining both T'Pau and Ste've.

Under constant digital surveillance, separated from one another, they were successfully confined in rooms which had no external windows or doors. The prisoners and their visitors, food, clothing and other necessities could be beamed into the rooms, or beamed out, but had no other route of ingress or egress. Even the ductwork overhead was made up of closed conduits that looped in on themselves; there was nothing that connected them to the rest of facility except the small units that replicated a clean stream of air for them, regulated the rooms' temperature, and provided the rooms with light set up to mimic the standard day-night cycle of the planet. All of the medical and research equipment had been stripped from the rooms, and they were now furnished with nothing but a foam mattress and a bedside commode.

Sionak and Sa'aat watched them on monitors, from an observation office several stories above them: in her room, T'Pau sat silent, unmoving, as though in a deep meditative state. In his room, Ste've was agitated, pacing. He looked up at the recording pip in the ceiling of his room, set too high for him to reach it, and said, "Ugal sadalau kusut t'nash-veh Sybok. Osu ha? Nam-tor zhu nash-veh du ha?" _(Sybok promised to release my pain. M'lord? Do you hear me?)_

Both Sa'aat and Sionak turned toward the door of the observation office as Sybok entered and then stopped momentarily to wash his hands with some sterilizing gel from a dispenser on the wall. "Well, that was particularly unpleasant," he said. "And I'm assuming that one of the reasons why you wanted _me_ to assist you in an assessment is so I could learn first-hand what my brother had to endure at the hands of that woman."

"I chose you because you are one of the few Adepts I felt I could trust," Sa'aat told him.

"That reason was far down on the list. Admit it. You chose me because you'd hope I'd approve of your desire to execute the both of them." Sybok walked up to the desk where Sa'aat and Sionak were seated, and looked at the monitors where the images of T'Pau and Ste've were displayed. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you. In their present state, I find them both unfit for trial."

Sa'aat said nothing.

"Ahhh. You had the sneaking suspicion that I would," Sybok said after a few seconds. "You _know_ they're both carrying displaced katras inside of them."

"I suspected as much, but I needed to be sure."

"You could have probed them yourself."

"Yes, but as you pointed out - I want both of them executed. It would have been... unfortunate... if that desire had slipped from me during a probe and they both ended up dead. One of the dangers of the _eschak_ is that it is a gift that most often implements itself on an _unconscious_ level. The more removed I am from these two, the better."

"Well, it's nice to know you're not the butcher I first supposed you might be. I sense three distinct personalities inside the boy, his own and two others; and perhaps as many as a dozen in the woman. There may be more, of course. Some may be shielding themselves from our inquiries, or may be so enmeshed with the others that they are, at this point, indistinguishable as individuals. Until we can single T'Pau and Ste've out from the others, the _T'am'tar'am_ will be useless. And without that, you cannot prosecute."(16)

"Agreed. What do you suggest?"

"We have very few options. If you want a trial of any sort, we will _have_ to call upon the remaining Adepts, attempt the _fal-tor-plak_, and withdraw as many of the intruding katras from T'Pau and Ste've as possible. You will never be able to prove that their crimes were their own, unless you can single them out from the others and subject them to a Verification. I have some allies among the _Vai Giddas_ and the _Torai-Svitan_ who may be able to assist us, but most of the other _weh-rom_ are among the Traditionalists; they may be less inclined to help."(17)

"Or _more_ inclined... Once they are made to realize that T'Pau is the one most sorely affected, they may jump at the chance to restore her."

"Osu ha?" Ste've said through the monitor from his room. "Ugal sadalau kusut t'nash-veh du." _(M'lord? You promised to release my pain.)_

Sybok pressed the intercom button beside the monitor and replied in a soothing, very quiet voice, "Nam-tor ek'kusut hu glenel, sa-kan. Nam-tor vas wh'ltri. Hizhuk t'du. Dungi-nam-tor k'du va'ashiv maut ak." _(All pain is but a figment, child. Meditation is relief. Quiet yourself. I will be with you again very soon.) _Then he looked to Sa'aat and added, "Whatever we intend to do, we should do it soon. Their minds are losing cohesion, and the degeneration of synaptic pathways is reaching an acute stage in T'Pau. The psychosis will be permanent if we do not act."

"And if we cannot filter away the katras?"

Sybok shook his head. "Then they both have a plea of insanity on their side, and it will be especially difficult for you to convince the people to allow them to be executed - regardless of their crimes."

Sa'aat nodded. After a few moments he asked, "Were you able to find out anything about the child?"

"It lives, but I don't know where. The hiding place is well-shielded in her mind. Another reason to remove the layers of katras from around her: the longer we wait to bring her relief, the more unlikely it will be that the child will ever be recovered. If it doesn't get medical care... It may already be too late." Sybok checked the chronometer on the face of the monitor. "I have approximately fifty-seven _lirt'k_ before the next session of the Council Meeting is scheduled to start. I can make at least a few initial contacts during that time, with your permission."(18)

Sa'aat nodded silently again, and Sybok headed for the door. As it whisked open, Sa'aat said, "Sybok," and Sybok stopped in the doorway to face him. It was a few seconds before Sa'aat asked him, "Can you forgive her?"

Sybok's face filled with sadness. "_Nam-tor c'thia kanok-vei_," he said with a deep sigh. "If I cannot extricate myself from my own outrage, Sa'aat, and find my way to the Truth in this matter, then I don't have the right to call myself a _Vulcan_... and neither do you." (19)

* * *

In her room, the woman T'Sfek murmured a soft prayer into the baby's dark hair. Her own child had been lost more than a week earlier, but no note of that was made in the medical records of the New Vulcan Council or in the Federation medical logs. She was a follower of the holy guardian spirits, and so did not seek attention from the doctors when her blood came, heavy, emerald, and the gray baby dropped almost an hour later, unmoving, not breathing. She had wept and grieved in silent pain and privacy, until later in that evening, when she found that the gods who could be brutal could also be giving.

Although he was not of her Sect, the Elder Serrel had told her when he came in the dark of that saddest day of her young life, he had been called upon to do the gods' will. The child, a frail and tiny male, which he carried with him in a satchel, was without a mother that could care for it, he said, and since T'Sfek had milk and a name to give it - _Sa'haf_ - the infant could be hers if she kept its genesis a secret.(20) Deception was not the way of the _Vai Giddas_, but neither could T'Sfek reject so tiny and needy a thing, or refuse whatever gifts the gods sought to bring to her, so she put her arms out to the infant and took him in as her own. In exchange, Serrel put the body of her dead child in his satchel, and later carried it out to the Mazhiv Solai to bury it.

T'Sfek heard today, through the media feeds and the local gossip, that the _pon t'keshtan_ was now on many of the women of New Vulcan; and T'Sfek murmured a prayer into Sa'haf's hair, hoping that they would all be as satisfied and grateful as she was for the gift they had been given.

**The End**

**

* * *

**

(2) **Preemie Care:** most of the information on how to handle the preemie came from "_Providing Comfort and Developmentally Supportive Care for Your Premature Baby_" By Susan L. Madden, and other preemie websites on the net.

(3) **Spots:** This is NOT canon. But, I figured since it had been stated in other resources that Vulcans could see into parts of both the infrared and ultraviolet portions of the spectrum, there would have been some "need" for their eyes and brains to have generated that enhancement... so, I decided that one "need" would be for identification purposes in a time before DNA and other scientific methods were developed.

(4) **Personal History:** The monoliths were introduced in **Chapter 15** of this novel. **Vesht-var awek** translates from the Vulcan as _'private history'._

(5) **P****ok ha'gelek****:** from the Vulcan this translates literally as "ready-lamp". They are small lights on the main desk in front of each delegation's section in the Formal Chamber of the Cathedral. When the light burns white, it means the Sect is ready to cast its vote.

(6) **Vulcan offshoot races:** Collected from information on both the Memory Alpha and Memory Beta sites, the list of Vulcanoid species includes but is not limited to the following: _**Fri'slen**__: The Fri'slen were a race of mutated Vulcans that lived on the colony of Trilan. __**Debrune**__: The Debrune were a Vulcanoid race who were one of the many species that developed as a result of the Romulan Diaspora. When the Romulans' early ancestors departed the Vulcan homeworld, they went on an exodus to find a new planet to call home. After passing many planets, a dissident movement formed which was led by Admiral Debrune who made colonies on several of the planets the fleet had passed but these only lasted for several centuries during the 4th century. Planets such as Barradas III and Calder II were two such planets settled by the Debrune. __**Mintakan **__**Romulan**__ and __**Reman**__** Vulcanoid Rigelian**__: The Rigelians were a race that were native to the planet Rigel V in the Rigel system. They were known to had been an offshoot of the Vulcan race with their origins presumably placed at the time of the Romulan diaspora. A noted difference with the Vulcans was that Rigelians did not repress their emotions but neither were they generally warlike as their Romulan cousins; Rigelians did not demonstrate any appreciable telepathic abilities; also possessed an uncanny sense of direction.__** Watraii**__: The Watraii Hegemony lived a private and isolated existence on a harsh world near the Romulan Neutral Zone in the Beta Quadrant. For a long time, the true face of the Watraii was not known as they wore a dark green mask that almost appeared black with zig zag lines present at the bottom and top parts of it. Only the eyes were visible. They also appeared to wear loose fitting robes that disguised the Watraii's gender; All Watraii appear to possess blue eyes. The Watraii have forged themselves into a military force whose only goal is the destruction of the 'murderer' Romulan species that usurped their homeworld. As such, it seems that luxuries that somewhat neglected amongst their species as well as concepts such as affection. The only one common factor that is evident is their discipline as well as coordination which is said to rival that of the Borg even though they are not a hive-mind species. Military formations, which can consist of children, move with quiet formation and with such control that it has been stated that it rivaled a Vulcan's. _

(7) **Khub-sash**: the Vulcan term for "folic acid"

(8) **Stonn**: He, of course, was T'Pring's lover; the man T'Pring wanted to bond with instead of Spock in the TOS episode _"Amok Time"_. In the TOS novel _"Spock's World"_ Stonn died when he tried to chemically induce a plak-tau on himself in an apparent attempt to get T'Pring to want him/love him more. Since my own story takes place in a _"wierdified" _alternate reality, I've kept Stonn alive so he can plot with T'Pau.

(9) **Le-Matya Kin-kur: **translated from the Vulcan this means the _Yellow Wildcat_, or _Yellow Le-matya_.

(10) **62 languages:** This was based on an entry in the book _"The Definitive Star Trek Trivia Book"_ by Jill Sherwin. Uhura's language skills in TOS were far more limited; at one time she had to pull out a bunch of books to translate Klingon.

(11) **Ku'nit Ka'fa'ar:** an ancient Vulcan ritual that is invoked if there is a dispute over the custody of a child; in it the males fight one another, and the survivor wins custody.

(12) **T****hanai k'Serran:** translated from the Vulcan this means, _"adopted by Serran"_.

(13) **Tam'a:** as explained previously in Chapter 13 of this novel, this is the Vulcan word for "spirit", or as the (Vulcan Language Dictionary) VLD explains: _" the vital principle or animating force within living beings; incorporeal consciousness; a being inhabiting or embodying a particular place, object, or natural phenomenon"._ Not all Vulcans accept that planets and other places can possess or embody a spirit that is unique to them, but Sa'aat does; it's part of his religious beliefs.

(14) **T'Aitlu, ko-fu t'Spahk**_**:**_ this translates from the Vulcan as _"T'Aitlu, daughter of Spock."_

(15) **Spock's blessing:** This blessing was actually adapted from the Irish _"Blessing for Challenge" _by ___Fr. Andrew Greeley which reads in part: "__May love and laughter light your days, and warm your heart and home. May good and faithful friends be yours, wherever you may roam. May peace and plenty bless your world with joy that long endures. May all life's passing seasons bring the best to you and yours!" (_.)

(16) **T'am'tar'am:** a Vulcan mind-surveying ritual during which healers meld with a criminal suspect to try to determine his/her guilt or innocence; also called "The Verification".

(17) **Fal-tor-plak: **the removal of a katra from its Keeper to a vre-katra. Remember, in **Chapter 16** of this novel, Sa'aat used this technique to pull Amanda's katra from Spock. **Weh-rom** is the Vulcan word for "_better_"; Sybok is using it here to refer to the "best minds" of New Vulcan, the other Adepts.

(18) **Lirt'k:** a measurement of Vulcan time equal to 1.41 Earth minutes.

(19) **Nam-tor c'thia kanok-vei**: from the Vulcan this translates as _"Truth is everything."_ It stems from the Vulcan belief in the concept of _c'thia_: the truth of reality, the way things are. For a Vulcan to ignore the truth or act in direct opposition to the truth is illogical. This concept was delved into a lot in the TOS novel, _"Spock's World" _by Diane Duane (Pocket Book © 1988). In her novel, Duane even had Amanda try to decipher the meaning of the word and then explain the concept to Kirk and McCoy.

(20) **Sa'haf:** the name is the Vulcan word for bag or satchel.

(1) **Tau-Vimevilayek**: translated from the Vulcan this literally means "fever inducer".


End file.
